


Simplicity is Key

by RamblingWriter



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Love Triangles, Multi, Older Man/Younger Woman, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-05 18:00:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 107,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RamblingWriter/pseuds/RamblingWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After living a rather care- and drama-free life, Bella thinks she has a pretty normal life. She has a crush on her extremely hot doctor, she has two crazy yet lovable roommates, and she is trying to not want the hot guy who is way too complicated for her. Little does she know that not everything is as simple as it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Most characters belong to Stephenie Meyer; I own Kate and the plot.
> 
> Warning: This story deals with some sensitive topics, so beware. No rape or abuse of any kind.
> 
> Thanks go to PTB, Kaydee1005, Jules, Belle Dean, Mamma4ever and Detochkina, all of whom have been involved in the making of this story in one way or another. I love you all

**The Prologue**

For those who don't know me, I'm Isabella Marie Swan—or simply Bella.

Before I go into my story, I must tell you about my past.

An only child and the result of two horny teenagers getting together almost twenty-two years ago, I came into this world as innocent as any other. Love was in the air as Charlie Swan, the sturdy cop-wannabe, laid eyes on the new girl in town, Renee Adams. He was not the only boy to appreciate her beautiful curves, but he sure was the only guy who caught her attention.

Renee was never the one to play hard to get, so it didn't take long for Charlie to have her knocked up and walking down the aisle. Once I joined them, they slowly realized what a huge mistake they had made. They were not compatible at all. Charlie was stubborn and quiet, but he never lost that enigmatic quality, which kept Renee around for a lot longer than she would have preferred. His stubbornness, however, was what repelled her. He never budged on anything they fought about, and he constantly told Renee his way was the right way. He was an aspiring cop after all—he should know.

As it turned out, Renee was equally as stubborn and finally she decided that his way was not suitable for her.

So, at the age of six I moved with my mom to California. From there we made our way to New York, and finally we settled in Phoenix, Arizona, when I was nine. As a result, I have come to loathe moving.

Eventually, Renee met a guy who was, like, totally rad—or whatever the hell the teen speak was back in her day. My mom is  _totally_  stuck in the late eighties and early nineties period when she opens her mouth.

The guy, Phil, is pretty nice, but he is also ten years her junior, which makes him seven years my senior. It sometimes freaks me out a little, but he makes her so happy, so I don't complain.

That's really how I ended up in Forks again. I hated being a burden, so I offered to leave them alone. Renee wanted to travel with Phil but always put it off. She felt it was too inconvenient to travel with a teenager, and she felt I was too young to be left alone in Phoenix. So at age sixteen, just before junior year started, I moved back to dreary ol' Forks to live with Charlie.

Living with my dad wasn't all bad. It was certainly not the worst thing about living there. For someone who has moved around so much, I really hate meeting new people. I hate being at the center of attention, and, well, there's no way in hell that the return of the long-lost daughter of the Chief of Police Charlie Swan would go unnoticed at Forks High. As it turned out, I lived up to the image of my mother; boys just wouldn't stop staring my first week there. It's not that I'm not into guys—far from it—but I've definitely never been the fairest belle of the ball.

Fortunately, Emmett McCarty came to my rescue. He was the king of my class. He looked the part, and kind of lived the part, but he never gave into the pressure of falling into some kind of stereotypical mold. He did whatever he wanted to do, whenever he wanted. He still does.

We quickly became friends and then somehow ended up as Forks High's golden couple. Seriously, I can't tell you how or when that happened, but it did involve a couple of drunken nights, escaping one Mike Newton, and eventually falling into a comfortable pattern of making out between classes and during "study sessions," if you know what I mean.

I managed two years in Forks without much drama, or at least what I considered drama. Apparently, everyone was quite interested in what Emmett and I were doing, but honestly, I was never too concerned about it; I just went with the flow, and remained thankfully out of the drama loop. I finished up high school and just barely escaped the valedictorian title (thank God!), and moved to Seattle to go to the University of Washington. When it came to choosing a major, Emmett suggested English, and I thought, why not? I managed to increase his grade from a C+ to an A- when I tutored him, so I must have been pretty good at it. I definitely don't regret my decision.

It's been two years since I moved to the city. I spent most of my first year either partying with Emmett or studying. Last year I moved in with my friend Angela from Forks and a girl named Kate, who I met on campus my first day at the U. Eventually, Emmett and I broke up, but we continue to be good friends, with occasional benefits, if you know what I mean...

Yeah, he totally keeps my crappy car running.

Well, that, and we have sex when we are desperate or wrung tight.

I'm currently starting my third year of undergrad, living with my two best friends in the whole world, and as single as the day is long and enjoying it to the fullest. When I say "to the fullest," it doesn't mean I go around sleeping with any guy offering. I'm not slutty—far from it. Actually, it's the exact opposite.

Some might call it a dry spell. A major one.

However, this story is not about my past. This is about my present and my future. It's about how I learn to survive after stupid mistakes and how to make big decisions and live by them. This is where I grow up.

And this is where I learn simplicity is key.


	2. The Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last on Simplicity is Key: It was the prologue. Bella moved around a lot with her mom, but ended up in Forks with her dad. She used to date Emmett, but now they've broken up but remain friends.

 

_**Late September 2009** _

It's the start of a new school year **—** my third and, thanks to summer school and increased workload for the last two years, my last year as an undergraduate. In celebration of that, my friends and I decided a night on the town was in order. I've had quite a few shots of tequila, vodka, and several other mysterious drinks, so I'm  _wasted_.

The interior is all in black, red and orange colors, mixing together into this one blurry fire, and the seats are some fancy upholstered leather type **—** the type that sticks to the back of your thighs if you're wearing a short skirt. The fluorescent lighting and the heavy beat of the music create a hypnotizing ambiance, making me want to dance my wits away. It's same feeling I sometimes get when I listen to certain type of music—anything with a heavy bass, really **—** and I feel like I could get any man in the room. It's like my body has a life of its own and my mind just goes with the flow.

At this moment, I don't care what my friends are doing; I just want to dance.

As I make my way to the dance floor, I'm glad to see Kate and Angela, my best friends and roommates, follow my lead. I close my eyes and start moving to the beat, swaying my hips, bending my knees a little, hitching my skirt up a little, and ruffling up my hair. Yes, I'm doing everything to look as slutty as I feel at this moment; a sensation I often get while under the influence. After a moment or two, I feel two big hands slowly start exploring my body, exciting me further. The guy grinding against my ass is apparently enjoying the show; well, it's either that, or he has a banana in his pocket.

I turn around to get a look at my partner and find a rather handsome looking Native-American guy. I don't know how long I've been dancing with him, but it's been a while, and I don't object when he starts kissing me, or when he starts groping my ass. It's all against my better judgment. In the back of my mind, I know I'll regret my behavior later. The kisses are sloppy, and the groping is a little bit too rough, but I'm all up for it. Hey, maybe I'll even end my very, very dry spell tonight.

One can only hope.

As I try to catch my breath after a long session of kissing and groping, the room starts to wobble, and there's a gentle pounding in my head. Maybe it's time for a glass of water, or maybe two. I whisper loudly **—** or shout rather **—** in my partner's ear that I'm going to the bar to get hydrated. I just hope that he won't move on to the next target as soon as I leave.

Sure enough, as I look back after making my way to the bar, there he is, grinding away with some other girl.

And there goes my lay for the evening (which is probably a good thing).

I could start all over again with some other dude, but I just can't be bothered. The room is spinning, and I really need that drink of water if I don't want to end up having an intimate date with the toilet in the morning.

Trying to hide my drunken sway, I sit down on one of the barstools. I have to grab the edge of the bar to steady myself, but my precautions aren't working so well. The room is  _still_ spinning. I curse myself for not realizing the motions weren't restricted to the dance floor. This is all me—or the glorious amount of alcohol I've consumed this fine evening.

I gather my bearings and try to focus on a nearby bartender. I attempt to get his attention, but that proves to be a rather difficult task. Not only are my movements ridiculously slow, but this bartender apparently only has eyes for guys. Of course. I know I'm relatively attractive, so getting a bartender to serve me my alcohol has never been a problem, but now, when all I want—and desperately need—is water, the bartender has to be gay. Great.

In my frustration, I slap the bar top **—** which hurts, by the way **—** and I growl.

Yes, this lady growls when irritated.

Someone chuckles next to me, and I quickly swivel my chair to get a look at him, but find that the barstool isn't made for swiveling. Instead, I push myself off the chair and into **—** or onto, depending on how you look at it **—** the guy sitting next to me.

"Whoa, steady there." He laughs and quickly moves his hands to my waist to keep me in place. In the process, I feel his hand grazing my left breast, and I swear my nipples harden from the accidental attention.

Well, at least my tits are getting some action, and I'm not on the floor, so I'm thinking it's a win for me.

I manage to sit back up without major damage, though I do have to alter my top; it was dangerously close to turning into a skirt. I catch the guy unabashedly watching me while I adjust myself, and I'm thinking this night might still turn out a success.

When he finally looks up at my face, I decide to play a little, and I give him a wink.

"See something you like?"

He looks stunned for just a second, and then a teasing smirk appears. I admit, I get a little bit exited in the nether regions.

"Why, yes, I did. Still do, in fact."

I quickly glance down at my chest to make sure my goods are not still showing, but fortunately, they are safely hidden. When my eyes find his again, he's laughing, and I swear I hear him muttering, "made you look," just before he turns back to take a sip of his beer.

That's when I notice just how  _Oh-My-God_  hot he is. I take a minute to look him up and down, and man, oh man. He has the whole bed-head thing going on, his auburn locks going every which way they see fit, and my fingers itch to run through them, to smooth them, to see if they really are as soft as they look. His face is so perfect, I bet he's never had a pimple in his entire life. Everything about his features screams "MAN." His nose is straight and not too small, yet not too long or thick or wide. His jaw line is strong and edged, and I have a tiny urge to run my tongue along it. Then up and over his chin, and then lick his lips.

Those luscious, yummy looking lips...

I unconsciously wipe a finger along my mouth, checking to see if I'm actually drooling, as I watch him slowly take another sip of his beer. The way his lips gently touch the mouth of the bottle, and the way his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows…

I shift in my seat, nudging my thighs together, as if  _that_  would help with the tension building below.

The chuckle guy puts his bottle back down and looks at me again. His eyes zero in on my mouth, and I remember my finger, which is still playing with my bottom lip. I instantly drop my hand, but I don't fail to notice how he takes a deep breath, and how his jaw tenses. The thought that I'm making him nervous makes me smile, and I'm sure I look quite smug when he looks back up into my eyes.

Turning my attention to the bartender again, I'm annoyed to see that he is now flirting with a guy sitting on the other side of Chuckles. I frown when I realize that with the way things are going, I'm never going to get my water.

"Maybe I can get your drink for you?"

I glance back at the Chuckler and see him smiling at me. I sit back and attempt to reciprocate. "Water, please."

"Water? Really?"

I laugh. "You don't think I'm drunk enough? I've thoroughly avoided facing the floor head on so far, and I'm not particularly looking to up my chances."

He grins and turns back toward the bar. "Water it is, then."

It doesn't take him long to get the attention of the bartender. I watch with amusement as the barman starts shamelessly flirting with Chuckles.

Then I start to feel an uncomfortable rumbling in my stomach.

Shit.

I  _really_  need to throw up.

I quickly stand up and run on my unsteady heels toward the ladies' room at the back of the club. I'm lucky that most of the stalls are unoccupied, so I duck into the nearest one and give into the urge to purge my stomach's contents.

A few minutes later, as I sit back on the dirty floor, relaxing against the cool walls of the stall, I hear a group of girls walking into the room.

"Oh my god, did you see him?" Someone with a very deep voice is almost hyperventilating with excitement.

"Yes, my god, he's  _so_ hot!" another voice, a nasal one, exclaims in the most "blonde bimbo" manner I've heard since my brief sorority stunt.

"Do you guys know who he is?" a third voice asks, clearly out of the loop.

"Where have you been living, Tiffany? Under a rock? That's Edward Masen out there!" Deep Voice explains.

"Oooohh, right, yeah I've heard of him. Never seen him before, though," Tiffany responds.

"God, what I wouldn't give to get my turn with him…" Blonde Bimbo says reverently, sounding like she's already picturing it.

"Please, it's not like that's difficult. I mean, he's a total man-whore," Deep Voice says matter-of-factly.

"C'mon, Kayla, he's hardly a whore…" Tiffany tries to defend him.

"And how many girls did he date last quarter alone?" Kayla asks. "I don't think anyone could count them. He even goes for WaSU girls. That means he's not picky, which is a whore in my book."

"Sure, he's dated a lot of girls, but I've heard that he's always respectful, and every girl he dates knows that he's not a monogamist. He's just not looking to settle down yet. And it's not like he finds a new girl every night or anything, and he  _never_  fucks on the first date. Plus, I've heard that he's a total gentleman, through and through," Tiffany responds proudly, clearly holding this guy on a pedestal.

"That doesn't change the fact that he's screwing with at least three girls at any given time!" Kayla shoots back.

"Yeah, but he's, like, really nice to them; he takes them out on dates, and he gives them gifts and everything. I wish my boyfriend would treat me half as good as Edward treats his," Blonde Bimbo finally contributes to the conversation.

There is a collective sigh outside my stall.

"So, girls, are you ready to see if he's still out there? Maybe I can be one of the lucky few… or should I say "many"?" Kayla laughs, clearly not bothered by his slut status.

They all giggle, and I hear the thumping bass grow louder as they open the bathroom door. I can only faintly hear one of the girls say, "hi there," to someone I can only assume is Edward.

I've heard of Edward Masen before, and I can't help but think that even though he treats his girlfriends well, he still shouldn't be playing around with them like that. In my book, it's surely better to have a series of one night stands than be playing around with so many hearts. I know girls, and I know some of the girls he's been with. It's always the same story: they all get their hopes up, hoping to be the one to get him to settle down, convinced that they are the one for him. They all want to change him, but when they become too difficult for him or too clingy, he cuts them off. But to each their own, and his preferences have nothing to do with me what so ever, so who am I to judge?

After collecting myself from the floor, I flush the toilet and try to clean myself up a bit. I feel disgusting, not only because I can still taste the vomit in my mouth, but also because I have been sitting on a dirty public bathroom floor for about twenty minutes. It's not really the highlight of my night.

I step out of the stall, wash my hands in the sink, and try to freshen up my make-up. My mascara has run a bit down my cheeks, and I look like a hard core punker chick or something. I end up removing the whole thing, and feeling very bland afterwards. After splashing my face a couple of times, I rest on my elbows, staring at the black lines dissolving in the water, running down the drain. My head is pounding, and my stomach is still uneasy, so I decide that this is it for me. I'm going home to my warm and comfy bed.

Oh, my dear, dear bed.

I fix my outfit, making sure my boobs aren't peeking out, and that my hoo-ha is covered **—** seriously, these short, tight skirts are dangerous, because I'm inevitably going to be the girl who flashes the crowd in some way or another. I walk out of the bathroom, wondering if I should go find Kate or Angela and tell them my plan, or just leave and text them on the way.

On the other side of the door, I'm surprised to see Chuckles standing by the wall, looking a bit frazzled. His hair is sticking out on ends, not as perfectly as before, and a couple of buttons have been unbuttoned on his shirt. He's looking toward the hallway leading to the main area, looking after three giggling girls, who are shooting flirty glances at him over their shoulders.

I'm guessing Chuckles is Edward Masen.

I don't know if he's waiting for me, but I decide to bring attention to myself anyway.

"Hey," I say loud enough to be heard over the beat. The music isn't too loud here in the back, which is nice.

At first he is startled, but when he sees me he looks slightly relieved, though that might be just wishful thinking on my part. Exactly what I'm wishing for, though, I'm not sure.

"Hey. Are you okay?" He sounds genuinely concerned.

I try my best to smile. "Yeah, I just always forget that tequila is not my friend."

He chuckles, but looks slightly uncomfortable. The moment is quite awkward, and despite seeing double, I feel rather sober. Finally, he jumps as if he remembers something, and he holds out a water bottle.

"Here, I got your water."

Reaching out for the bottle, I mutter my thanks. I don't really want to drink any just yet, since my throat is still sore, but I don't want to be rude, so I twist off the cap and take a few gulps.

I must have grimaced, since he steps closer and starts rubbing my back.

"Does your throat hurt?"

I close my eyes and try not to focus on the tingles on my back.

"Yeah…"

I keep wondering why he's here, and why is he being nice to  _me_? He must have some of his girlfriends waiting somewhere for him. He isn't looking for a new girlfriend, is he? I'm a drunken mess right now, and nothing is even remotely attractive about me. Unless… Maybe he's looking for a drunk girl to hook up with?

No, that can't be. According to the rumors, he goes for girlfriends, not romp-and-runs.

After a few moments of me trying to ignore the tingles, his movements slow down and he removes his hands **—** maybe my brain is playing tricks on me, but it almost feels as if he is reluctant to do so. I, on the other hand, feel like I can breathe easy again, even though I can still feel the damn tingles.

Things turn awkward as I open my eyes again. How long have we been standing here? Feels like hours, but it's probably been just minutes. Yeah, must be minutes, unless the same song has been playing for a  _really_  long time.

With determination, I turn toward him and smile.

"I'm going home. I think I've had enough for this evening. Thanks again for the water," I say, holding up the water bottle. I turn to walk away from him, but he quickly steps in front of me.

"Please, let me give you a ride."

I hesitate, slightly confused. "Haven't you been drinking?"

"One light beer, that's it." He looks totally serious. I stare at him for a moment, something making my mind fuzzy.

"Why?"

Why is he offering? What is his motive? Something doesn't add up.

"Why only one beer, or why give you a ride?"

"The **—** the ride thing…" My head is starting to hurt. I might be starting to get hung over already.

"Because your friend left with some guy, and I want to make sure you'll make it home safe. A beautiful girl like you should not be wandering alone at night, especially when you are dressed like this and still extremely drunk."

"I have a coat," I state, starting to get irritated. He basically called my outfit slutty. I am the only one who can make a slutty comment about me or my outfit. Well, I guess Kate is allowed that as well. Basically, if it's not made by a friend, then it's insulting.

And how did he know my friend left already, anyway? Does he know Angela or Kate?

He interrupts my thoughts. "Then go get it." He starts ushering me toward the coat room.

Wait, what? Didn't he understand what I meant?

"No!" I start. "I mean, I won't be dressed 'like this.'" I try to air quote but my movements might be quite exaggerated. "I have a coat."

"Right. Well, that doesn't change the fact that you are obviously drunk, and some guy might try to take advantage of you. I'm driving you home and that's it. Go get your coat."

"How do I know  _you're_  not trying to take advantage of me?" I shoot at him, annoyed.

"You don't," he replies, smirking.

I can't help it; the mere tone of his voice brings the tingles back, right where I have been neglected for so long. "Are you?" I ask.

He smiles and leans in. "I don't take advantage of girls. I don't need to."

For a second or two, I'm completely dazed by his green eyes. And then I realize how incredibly cocky that sounded.

After I snap out of my tingle induced haze, I go get my coat and walk with him out to his car. I'm aware of nothing but the tingles every time he grabs me to keep me steady, and I try really hard to stay up right so he won't grab me as much.

Too soon, I'm in a very comfortable car seat, in a car with very nice interior. I say "too soon" because I really want him to touch me again.

Confused by my mixed feelings, I close my eyes and try to ignore the world.

"Hey, stay awake for me; I don't want to have to search you for your keys."

"I am awake," I mumble.

"Prove it."

I open my eyes and try to stare at him and convey my annoyance, but he just laughs. I huff and turn away. He asks for my address and drives off when I finally give it to him.

We sit in silence most of the way, the only thing breaking the quiet is the water gurgling as I take a sip every now and then. At some point I register something he said earlier, so I turn in my seat to look at him.

"You called me beautiful."

He glances at me and then back on the road. "Yes."

I stare at him for a moment, searching for something in his features, though I'm not sure what it is.

"We're here," he says, disrupting my musings. I look outside, and sure enough, we are parked right outside my apartment building.

"Right. Well… thanks," I mumble and turn to open the car door, but when I try to get out I'm thrown back into my seat.

Edward laughs. "You still have your seatbelt on."

"Oh…" Ever the eloquent self, I reach down and unfasten the seatbelt and make another attempt to exit the car. This time my ankle twists as I kind of miss the curb, so I end up in a heap next to the car. I don't know if I want to cry or laugh, as the absurdity of the situation is slightly dulled by the throbbing pain in my ankle.

I feel the tingles again and notice Edward is gently helping me up. He's saying something, maybe asking me a question, but I'm not quite sure. I try to explain that I'm fine but he doesn't give up.

He insists on helping me upstairs, so up we go. The dull pain in my foot is making me sober up, and the tingles are magnifying. Not only are they more pronounced, but I'm starting to register the smell of him, and though I can't quite distinguish what it is, it is making me want to bathe in it.

Finally we reach my door, and while I'm fishing out the keys from my pocket, I'm reveling in the fact that I'll be rid of him soon and safe in my own bed. Alone. Once again.

Big, mental sigh.

My desperation, however, is not great enough for me to latch onto the famous Edward Masen. I don't care what his intentions are. I'm not going to be one of his groupies.

"You're not coming in," I say as I step through the door and turn to look at him, blocking his way.

He only smiles. "Okay."

"Thanks for the ride, and… and the help." I know I'm stalling. I just don't know why. Maybe I do kind of want him. It's probably just temporary insanity.

"You're welcome. You will take care of that ankle, right?"

Yes, he did say something about how to elevate it and cool it and shit earlier.

 _Please_ , like I don't know how to take care of a twisted ankle. But I just smile and try to be polite.

"Yes, I know what to do. Thanks."

I lean against the door frame, clutching it for support.

He steps closer, still smiling at me. I'm confused again. I'm sure we have said everything we have to say, so why is he lingering?

"You can go now." I try to be firm, but I'm lost in his eyes for some reason. It must be the alcohol.

"What is your name?" His voice is so gentle, he's almost whispering. However, I hear it clear as day, as he is still closing in on me.

"I'm not telling you." It's best if he doesn't know. No need to tell him, right?

_Right._

"Why not?"

_I don't know._

"I don't want you to know."

He is still coming closer, so close that I'm starting to have to look up in order not to lose eye contact.

"I'll tell you my name if you give me yours." He smirks, like entering into bargaining is his secret weapon or something, sure that this will seal the deal.

"You're Edward Masen." I smirk back, finally having a good comeback.

"So you've heard of me."

Jeez, this makes him even more cocky.

"I've heard enough."

Yes, he's Edward Masen. Mr. Big Love.  _Remember that_.

"I will find out your name." He slowly takes a final step toward me.

"It won't change anything," I shoot back, though admittedly, my voice is starting to get breathy.

"Maybe not…" He trails off.

My breath hitches as I feel his breath on my cheeks.  _That's_  how close he is. I don't even know if he's smiling or not; I can't see his mouth.

I'm still staring straight into his eyes, but as he closes the distance, my eyes shut.

His lips are soft and gentle against mine, and I find myself relaxing into his kiss. As he slowly moves against me, I breathe in the smell of him and try my best not to lose focus. My hands clench the wood in an effort to keep them from running through his hair or gripping his shirt and dragging him inside.

I'm not falling for him.

I don't want to be the girl who wants to be the one for him. But the feeling of him kissing me is unreal. I just wish he would grab me or just touch me  _somewhere_ with his hands.

At some point he withdraws from me, but I keep my eyes closed, quietly basking in the magnified tingles he left behind on my lips. When I finally open my eyes again, I see a glimpse of Edward just before he disappears down the stairs.

I sigh and close the door, leaning up against it and closing my eyes again, having a typical girl moment.

My god, that boy can kiss...

I smile and go to the bathroom, debating if I should brush my teeth. I really want to be a girly-girl and savor that kiss, but there is still the issue of me throwing up earlier in the evening.

Oh, wait…

I probably still have vomit breath. And he kissed me.  _Yuck_.

Well, on the up side, it might have grossed him out and scared him off, so I won't have to deal with the hot, oh-so-bad-for-me guy pursuing me. Maybe…


	3. The Coffee Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last on Simplicity is Key: Bella was drunk at a club, celebrating what should be her last year at UW. She met Edward Masen, flirted, got slightly upset when she found out he's a polygamist, and ended up getting a ride with him back home. He kissed her, and she got the tingles.

**_Two weeks later_ **

I'm sitting at a Starbucks on the Ave, only a short walk away from campus, waiting for one of my best friends, Kate, to show up. It's not an uncommon thing, waiting for Kate. Not at all. But then again, I like being just a little bit early so it's partially my fault. Not that I mind. No, I've known Kate long enough to anticipate this, so I've learned to arrive only a couple of minutes early.

Kate and I met just about two years ago, both fresh out of high school. The story is quite funny, actually, and says a lot about what type of person she is.

It was my first day at the University of Washington, and I had just picked up my class schedule. I was nervous, having only been in the city for a couple of days. I was looking down at my phone, reading a description from Emmett as to where to meet him, when all of a sudden I literally ran down some girl and sent her flying across the lawn, or at least a good foot away. I was mortified, but instead of biting my head off, the girl just lay there laughing.

"I'm sorry," I tried to apologize when I noticed she had somewhat calmed down. She was clasping her waist and taking deep breaths as she awkwardly stood up.

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine!" she answered cheerfully, brushing away dirt and grass from her pants. She then looked at me, stuck out her hand and smiled. "Hi, I'm Katelyn Connors."

I was slightly intimidated by her cheerful demeanor, but I grasped her hand nonetheless and muttered my name. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, she looked down at her watch and yelled "SHIT!" before running away like the dogs of Hell were chasing after her. I didn't really think much more about this incident and continued on with my day, presuming I'd never see the girl again.

A couple of days later I woke up bright and early in order not to be late for my eight o'clock class. Okay, that's a lie—it wasn't really bright and early. Alright, it was actually seven forty-five, and I was late. I have a tendency of turning off my alarm and going back to bed. It's a hazard. But since I was lucky enough to get a single room at the dorms, I had no backup alarm system, like another person, to wake me up.

I panicked when I saw what time it was, so I ran like hell to class. I had already memorized my class schedule, along with the map of campus, to save me from the embarrassment of having to ask for directions—or worse, looking totally lost. Of course I made it to class just in time to walk into the room all calm and collected, as if I was never really going to be late.

I really do everything possible to save myself from public embarrassment.

Taking great care in where to sit, I decided on a seat in the center of the middle row. As I looked through my books, I discovered much to my horror that I had the wrong ones. That meant I'd have to rely on someone else to let me use their books during the class. I hoped I would be lucky enough not to need to ask for help, seeing as it was the first day and all, but I still felt a little defeated as I put my books back into my bag.

I was tired and closed my eyes for a few seconds, so I didn't think much of it when someone sat down on my right. I was missing my daily coffee fix more than ever and was having the hardest time not just completely falling asleep, when my neighbor spoke.

"Hey, you're Bella Swan, right?"

I opened my eyes, surprised that someone knew my name. And there she was: the crazy girl I ran down a few days earlier, Kate… something. I was slightly relieved that she was the one sitting beside me, and not an actual stranger.

I nodded, not being able to think up a proper response. I was also terrified that she'd discover that I didn't actually remember her name. That, and I've always been absolute failure at meeting new people. Even though I'm all up for making new friends, I just feel uncomfortable and scared that people won't like me.

"Shit, you look like you were just raised from the dead!" She laughed—very loudly if I might add. I never knew girls could even reach such volumes.

I just smiled and answered in a very raspy, newly woken voice, "Yeah, I just woke up and haven't been able to get my morning coffee."

She laughed lightly as she passed me her big-ass pink travel mug. "I feel your pain, sista'. Please have some of mine, I have plenty to share," she said and winked at me.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a bother." I tried not to show how much I would have loved a sip of coffee, but I couldn't help but lick my lips as I longingly eyed the mug.

"Oh, it's alright, there's a Tully's around the corner; you can make it up to me after class." She put her mug on my table, and then went on to leaf through her books.

I picked up the mug and opened the flap on the top. The warm fumes floating up from it immediately made me feel better. I raised the cup, barely aware of the teacher entering the classroom, took a long inhale, and then took a tentative sip, making sure my mouth wouldn't burn from the hot liquid.

For a brief moment, I was in heaven. The mildly warm drink warmed my mouth and my throat as I swallowed. The heat spread down my throat and down to my stomach, warming me up. From there it spread like water through cloth and my body was hyper aware of the caffeine it had been so desperately missing that morning.

After another inhale and a sigh, I took another gulp of coffee before handing the mug back to Kate.

"Thanks, this totally saved my day!" I whispered, as to not disturb the teacher who had now started his introduction.

"Oh, no problem! Please, just help yourself if you want more," she whispered back, putting the mug between us on the table.

I sat back distancing myself from the temptation. "No, I can't, I've had too much of your coffee already."

"Oh, come on, I know you want it." She picked up the mug, opened the lid, and waved it around in front of me.

I smiled and gave in, indulging in one more sip of goodness.

Ever since that day two years ago, we had become inseparable. The more I learned about her, the more I liked her; she was loud, chatty, and no subject was off limit. I quietly enjoyed her company, listened to her ramblings, and, soon enough, I was offering up my own stories for her to listen to. And she really has listened to me. I would expect someone like her, someone who always has something to say and something to fill the silences, would have difficulties letting someone else get a word in, but no, not Kate. She listens to every single word coming out of people's mouths, laughs at their jokes, and provides good advice when needed. She is exactly what I need in a friend: she calls me out on my crap, she drags me along to social events, and makes sure I don't retreat to my protective shell. Hell, she even got me to rush a sorority, though that didn't last long.

At the end of freshman year, Kate was looking for people to share an apartment with. When she asked me if I would like to live with her, I accepted her offer. She then told me that she had another girl lined up to live with us. I was pleasantly surprised to find out that it was Angela Weber – one of the few people aside from Emmett I actually got to know in Forks.

Now, what am I doing at a Starbucks, waiting for someone I will inevitably see at home? Well, this has become our  _thing;_ whenever either one of us has to make up for something, we treat the other to coffee and delicious pieces of sugary cake.

Today I need to make up for the fact that I left Kate to guard the sinking ship that was our living arrangement. Okay, no, it's not really a sinking ship, but Angela told us last week that she is leaving us to go live with her boyfriend, Ben. I think it's really sweet. They've been together forever. At least since  _way_ before I moved to Forks. And I'm actually kind of glad that they're taking this step together. It can be quite depressing being reminded every single day that I don't have anyone in my life to be as romantic as Ben is with Angela. No one to cuddle with during cold nights. No one to wake up with every morning. No one to be sickeningly sweet with and giggle with at silly private jokes no one would ever get beside you and that other person.

No, I don't want a boyfriend. I don't  _need_  a boyfriend. Nope. Not at all. No...

But yeah, Angela dropped the bomb last Thursday, and I had to leave for Forks on Friday morning. Kate and I couldn't do much other than make up a tiny ad, which she then proceeded to print, photocopy, hang all around campus, and answer queries about the room. And since I got home really late last night and have the evening shift at one of the many book stores around campus, this is really the only chance to meet and discuss matters if we want to find someone soon.

I look up from my notebook when the seat next to me is pulled out and Kate sits down, letting out a content sigh as she does.

"Rough day?" I ask, knowing full well that she doesn't have rough days like the rest of us. Her days are always positive and fun. Always. I hate that.

She just laughs and shakes her head. "No, not particularly. But I've been on my feet, running this way and that for Professor Cortez, since eight this morning! Man, it feels good to sit down. Seriously, that man is crazy lazy; he can't do anything himself. Ever since he earned his PhD last year, he has all the psych undergrads doing all his work." She takes a long gulp of coffee, followed by an exaggerated "Ahhhh" sound that usually comes from four year olds, but hey, that's Kate for ya.

"Aww, that's too bad. But hey, you only have him, like, once a week, right?"

"Yeah, thank heavens for that! I'm not one for complaining, but I really feel some of those tasks he makes us do have nothing to do with psychology, or learning for that matter. It's ridiculous! It's only two weeks into the quarter, and I already have very strong feelings of dislike toward the guy."

Yes, Kate is also someone who never hates.

"I know what you mean. He sounds like my old professor, Dr. Faulkner. Now he was a pain!"

We laugh and help ourselves to more cake. Mine is a caramel-banana meringue combo, absolutely to die for. A very sugary death. As I slowly chew on the meringue, Kate starts making moaning noises. Whenever she eats good cake, it sounds eerily like she's having sex. And unfortunately, I'm speaking from experience. There is nothing sacred between two girls living together, especially when one of them is Kate.

Eventually, I clear my throat to begin the conversation.

"So, any news on the room front?"

Muffled sounds of confirmations come from behind her hand as she swallows a big bite of cake.

"Sorry, yeah, I got a few calls from people, and there's this girl, Alice Brandon, I met her yesterday, and she sounds really interesting! She's a freshman, currently living at the dorms, but she's stuck with a horrible roommate. So she decided to move out as soon as possible, she can be at our place next Saturday, and Angela's leaving on Friday, so it's perfect!"

"Okay, awesome!" I smile, relieved that the hunt for a new roommate turned out to be much easier than expected. I know I should probably ask to meet this Alice first, but I trust Kate's judge of character. The only characters she can't judge properly are guys who hit on her.

"Oh gosh, look who just walked in!" Kate whispers across the table, hiding her mouth from view of others, I guess to seem inconspicuous.

I raise my head and look toward the entrance. Some people I don't recognize are walking through the door, but right before them, walking up to the counter, is  _him._  Edward Anthony Masen. This is the first time I've seen him since that night at the club. My lips start tingling, and I immediately duck my head so I won't be seen.

As I realize how stupid I'm acting, I try to relax. I take another look at him, and I have to fight the urge to stare. There is just something about that guy that somehow captivates me. I watch as he walks up to the counter, listen to his smooth voice order a venti latte, watch him drum his fingers on his messenger bag hanging low on his left hip, while the other hand clutches the strap. He pays for his coffee, grabs the cup, and takes a seat in the opposite corner from us, still in good view. Sitting down, he pulls out his laptop, puts it on the table and (presumably) turns it on. I watch him take off his glasses (yeah, not everyone can pull off the glasses look, but he's so hot with  _and_  without them) and run his hands up and down his face before dragging them through his hair.

_Yum..._

Fingers snap in front of my face, and I come out of the dazed haze.

"Yo, having fun in lala land?" Kate asks me with a hint of humor in her voice. Okay no, that's a lie; there's a hint of seriousness in her voice, the rest is humor.

I just sigh and nod, take another look at Edward—he has put on his glasses again and is typing furiously on his computer—and turn back to Kate.

"I think it's getting worse. Seriously, he is too hot for his own good. And why do I want him in my bed, when I know I don't want him like that?"

My dry spell is still very dry. His kiss is actually the closest I've come to coming with the involvement of another human being in a very long time.

Kate laughs at me, clearly understanding my predicament.

"What about that doctor of yours? When are you going to seduce that hunk of meat?"

My doctor, Dr. Carlisle Cullen, is one of the senior residents at Seattle Grace Hospital, and he was personally assigned to me when they got hold of my extensive medical file composed of mostly bumps, bruises, and broken bones. He is also relatively young, probably in his mid-thirties, and insanely hot. I've been seeing him quite regularly for the past two years, since I suffer from an extraordinary lack of co-ordination, which has made me incredibly accident prone. Although we are friendly with each other, our relationship hasn't really crossed the doctor-patient line.  _Yet_. Because  _yes_ , I have thought about it. I mean, what woman wouldn't if they saw that fine specimen of a man? However, I'm quite sure I would never act on those urges. I'm still too shy (and I try and not to have Kate with me when I go see him, because she will inevitably embarrass me), and he's way too kind.

"Please, you know I would never dare to hit on him! He's so not the type who'd go for girls our age, and you know I'd never be able to face him afterwards. I'd have to change doctors, and I like him. He's a good doctor!"

"Oh, you just like to look at him!" Kate laughs and takes a bite of her cake.

I huff as I take another bit of cake. I make a very distinct noise of pleasure as I close my eyes to revel in the taste. As I open them again, my eyes automatically seek out Edward, and I notice a lovely little smile on his face. As I take a sip of coffee, I wonder what has him smiling like that.

It's probably a girl hitting on him on Facebook or something.

I slowly finish my cake, listening to Kate rattle on about this girl, Alice, and I try to inconspicuously stare at Edward. I wonder what kind of guy he is, since he successfully manages to date multiple girls at a time. There must be something special, right? Maybe he's the type who puts his girlfriend first, opens doors for her, holds her hand just so that they can stay connected, and sorts out the raisins from the nut mix, because he knows how much she hates them. Maybe he's the guy who would love to cuddle over a sappy movie, because he is content with just holding the girl he loves.

If only he could be satisfied with only one girl at a time.

I sigh as I realize that I don't only want a boyfriend, I kind of want Edward to be the one. No, not necessarily  _the one_ , but the boyfriend I want right now. And in my head, I'm building up hope that he's this perfect guy, and I realize that he'll probably never live up to my high expectations. I would inevitably be disappointed when he fails to hold the door for me, or when he looks at the waitress' tits while ordering our dinner.

But it wouldn't hurt to find out for myself though, right? I mean, I won't properly know what type of guy he is without getting to know him.

No. I don't want him. I don't want to be one of those girls who dreams of being the one to change him. Until he is able to be monogamous, he is off limits.

I hold the cup up to my face, like I'm reveling in the smell or the heat or something, while I still continue to stare.

_Look up, Edward. Look at me. Come on Ed, look up, catch my eye, I'll smile, you'll smile, I'll giggle, and you can walk on over here and ask me out. I'll even tell you my name. Damn it, why won't you look up!_

I sigh as I realize I wouldn't even know if he looked up at me; the glare from his glasses is hiding his beautiful green eyes from me. He would have to be pretty obvious about looking up for me to notice. He is staring so intently at his computer screen, and the smile is making its appearance again. He is almost smirking, and now I'm sure someone is doing a strip tease through a webcam for him. It's the only explanation I can think of.

Taking a sip, I look at Kate, and I am a bit thrown off by the look of mischief on her face.

"What?"

"You were trying that mind thing, weren't you?"

I blush. "Yeah…" There's no need to try to hide it; she knows that deep down I wish that things like that would actually work.

"You know that normal people don't actually read minds or have x-ray vision, right? That stuff only exists on TV or in books and shit."

"Yeah, I know," I deadpan, "and I'm sure that with my luck, if he were actually able to read minds, mine would probably be the only one he wouldn't be able to hear."

I sit and talk to Kate for a while before I get up and make my way to  _Front & Cover_, a well hidden jewel of a bookstore not far from campus. I worked there full time during the summer, and I have slowly been reducing my hours, since I'm anticipating the school workload to get heavier the further we get into the quarter. Today is actually my last shift until after fall finals. Jarred, the guy who owns the store, told me that as long as I'm interested, I'll always have a place at  _Front & Cover_.

There is not much action around here during an average day. The store is like its own little community with its regulars. It's where everybody knows your name – with the singing and everything. The atmosphere is stuffy and it feels small, but really, the place is a maze of shelves and passageways. It truly is a wonderland for book lovers. Or at least, that's what it felt like when I first started here. I would literally get lost if I didn't pay enough attention to where I was going.

I spend my shift lazily putting books on shelves, shifting them around when I find that some of them are in a wrong genre or not alphabetically organized. Since it doesn't take much brainpower to do this kind of work, I mostly spend my time fantasizing about this or that. Usually it's my next injury, which would be followed up by a doctor's appointment, but lately I have been equally as preoccupied with Edward Masen as I have been with Dr. Cullen. While the idea of Dr. Cullen has me all hot and bothered, I get all tingly inside when I think about Edward.

The idea of having a crush on someone as unattainable as Edward Masen is disturbing. I don't get crushes. Ever. There is nothing pleasurable about pining after someone you know you can't have, or don't actually want. It just makes you all the more sad that you know that you are going to spend the night alone in your bed.

Though I do like the tingles…


	4. The Moving In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last on SiK: Bella met up with her roommate and best friend, Kate, and they discussed the new roommate they're getting, whom Bella has never met. They also talked about Edward, who was at the same coffee shop, and about Carlisle Cullen, Bella's hot doctor.
> 
> Netherfield: the house Mr. Bingley rents in Pride & Prejudice.

**_Later that week_ **

God, I love Saturdays! The day I'm finally able to sleep in without feeling guilty about skipping anything important. This is why I turn off my alarm when it starts ringing and snuggle back into my pillow for a couple more hours of sleep.

Yes, I set my alarm for seven AM during weekends, and I do it only for the satisfaction of being able to go back to sleep.

Just as I drift off to Netherfield again, I am abruptly brought back to reality with a loud, relentless knocking on the front door.

I beat my covers in frustration as I get up. Muttering colorful curses, I pull a light blue robe around myself; my barely-there tank top and boy shorts are hardly appropriate attire for answering the door.

A rainbow of colors assaults my eyes when I open the front door. A frizzy black haired girl, who is at least half a foot shorter than I am, is practically buzzing in the hallway. She's wearing a bright yellow coat over a red and green thin cardigan, and a blue knitted hat, matching her dark blue, strategically ripped jeans.

 _This must be Alice_ , I think as I take her in. Kate  _did_  mention something about a power ball taking over Angela's room.

She sticks out her hand, and I shake it absentmindedly while she speaks unnaturally fast.

"Hi! You must be Bella. I'm Alice. Kate said it would be alright for me to move in today. Did she mention I was coming?" She doesn't wait for me to answer. I'm mesmerized by how her hair sways around her face when she talks. "Anyway, here I am, and I don't have a key, and I actually have quite a lot of stuff with me. My stupid brother was supposed to help me with my stuff, but apparently he forgot about me at the bar last night and got hammered, so now he's hung-over and non-responsive, so I was hoping you guys would help me, and maybe call your boyfriends or something to help with the heavy stuff?"

After finishing her speech, she takes a breath and then smiles. "I brought coffee!" She hands me a carton with three Starbucks cups **—** which, by the way, I'm surprised I hadn't noticed before.

Staring at her in a bit of a shock, I take the carton. I hear Kate stumbling out of her bedroom behind me. I mutter a "thank you" for the coffee and make my way to the kitchen table. Kate cheerfully greets her as I sit down, hungrily picking up a cup and taking a sip of the brown juice of the gods. Kate and Alice come and sit by me, grabbing a cup each. After a few sips, I am finally coherent enough to communicate with other people.

"Sorry, Alice, I have difficulties functioning in the mornings." I smile apologetically at her.

"Oh, it's okay; that's why I brought coffee!" Her voice is just as chipper as her outfit. "I know that not everybody is as energetic as I am in the mornings."

That's an understatement, but I still smile at her. Usually I don't like people like her **—** I despise people who wake up all fresh and happy at ungodly hours **—** but there is something pleasing about her.

"Okay, I can probably call Emmett to help with the big stuff, though he's probably not awake yet," I say after a while of chitchat. "But that doesn't matter," I add. "He owes me a favor. And he might be able to provide some extra muscles to help us."

Kate snorts. "Not that he needs it."

I give her a quick smile while Alice looks between us, confused.

"Emmett is huge," I explain. "And when I say huge, I mean HUGE!" I flex my biceps to show what I mean. "But yeah, just let me wake up properly and then I'll call him."

"So, Alice, what are you studying?" I ask, trying to hold up the conversation. Meanwhile, Kate stands up and walks into the kitchen and grabs a couple of waffles to put into the toaster.

"I'm hoping to double-major in business and international relations," she says matter-of-factly, and I must admit that it surprises me. She kind of strikes me as an airhead, so I'm having a hard time imagining her in such a demanding education. But she laughs and adds, "I have no idea what I'm going to do with it, but it just feels like a good idea."

"Wow! That must be a lot of work!" Kate says from the kitchen.

"Yeah, I expect it will be, but I'm an excellent planner." Alice smiles, evidently not worried about it.

We sit around the kitchen table and chat for a few more minutes before Kate and I decide to put on some clothes. When I come back out to the living room, clutching my cell to one ear, I notice the strange look Alice gives me. It looks like she's biting her tongue, trying to stop herself from saying something.

Ignoring it, I turn my attention back to the phone. I dial Emmett's number for the third time, determined to get him to help us. He owes me for that time he accidentally deleted a fully finished copy of a short story I wrote for class. I had been furious with him when it happened. It took me ages to finalize the draft I'd already had, and I always feel like whenever I try to write something again, it's never as good as the first time.

"Don't you know what fucking time it is?" he growls through the phone. Seriously, I'm sunshine and daisies next to him in the mornings.

"Well, hello to you, too. Yes it's  _fucking_  eight-thirty, for your information, and I'm really sorry for waking you up,  _but—_ " And now I put on my "whiny" voice, which always works on Emmett (especially when it's combined with the perfect pout, but obviously I can't use that over the phone). "—there is this girl moving in with us—really cute, by the way—and her brother was supposed to come help her, but he's a total douche and stood her up, so now it's just the three of us and we simply aren't strong enough to move all those things, and who's better to move heavy things than the amazing Emmett McCarty?"

God, I sound pathetic. But hey, pathetic and helpless usually works on him.

Emmett yawns at the other end of the line, and I swear I hear a faint echo, like he's in the bathroom.

"And why exactly should I come help you at the crack of dawn?"

I hear the toilet lid come up and an unmistakable sound of water hitting water. Emmett lets out a content sigh.

"Because you ruined my story, and you owe me big time, and, Emmett, are you peeing?" The idea is seriously gross, but I really shouldn't be surprised. Emmett was never one to be embarrassed about bodily functions.

"Yeah, I'm peeing, chill out. It's not like you haven't seen it happen!"

True, but that doesn't make it any better.

And there's the flush.

There is silence, and I relax a little when I hear the faucet run. At least he's washing his hands. That's an improvement!

"So… will you come help us? Have I mentioned that Alice is really, really pretty and  _tiny_! You'll love her, and if you come help us, she might just love you back…" I'm using all my cards now. I'm sure I don't  _have to_  use them all, but better safe than sorry.

He sighs. "Alright, Swan, I'll be there in twenty. But only 'cause I owe you, and you know full well that I felt horrible about ruining your work!"

 _What_? He's not coming because there is a girl involved? I know him, and I KNOW that  _my_ Emmett would comment on the girl thing. He's a natural flirt. Hell, he has even called himself the new Don Juan Casanova. I didn't have the heart to tell him those were two different characters; he was in such a good mood that day.

Before I can ask him about his strange behavior, he hangs up, and I'm staring into nothing, unable to hide my shock.

"Bella? Is he not coming?"

I turn around to see Kate watching me.

"Oh, yeah, he's coming, but—" I sit down on the sofa. "—I think there's something wrong with him. I told him about Alice, and he didn't make one joke about it! He said he's only coming 'cause he owes me one!"

"Wow, that's a first." Kate sits down next to me.

"Yeah…"

She might not know him as well as I do, but she's heard enough stories to see that this is out of the ordinary. That, and she has been on the receiving end a couple of times—or rather often. He even hit on her while he was still my boyfriend, though the fact that I was never really bothered by it probably says a lot about our relationship.

Alice walks back into the living room, from where I don't know, and sits in the recliner beside my side of the sofa. She looks from me to Kate and then back at me.

"So," she starts hesitantly. "Is he coming?"

I look up. "Huh? Oh, yeah, he'll be here in an hour or so." It's always best to assume Emmett is going to be at least a half hour late. It's a miracle he even made it through high-school. Aside from a couple of minutes past the warning bell, I think the closest thing he's ever been to showing up on time was when we put up Hamlet in our junior year, and even then he had to wear jeans in the first scene. He appeared just before he was cued on stage.

We sit back for a moment, and I'm still trying to figure out what exactly could have Emmett off his game, crazy theories running around in my brain. Maybe he was just tired? Or maybe he's dating someone? Gosh, have I turned him gay?

"So," Kate begins, effectively pulling my attention away from my thoughts. "Alice, you have a brother?"

"Yeah, he's a third year pre-med at UDub." She smiles at the mention of her brother. I start imagining a boy version of Alice—black hair, gray eyes, not really tall. Probably nerdy, with glasses. Probably not quite as hyper as Alice, but still somewhat of a crowd pleaser. I don't know why, but I'm picturing him in bright blue trousers, yellow shirt tucked in, and red  _Donald the Duck_  suspenders.

"Oh, an aspiring doctor, is he? Bella, that's something for you!" Kate wiggles her eyebrows at me.

"Oh shut up! It has only ever been the one doctor. It's not like I go for everyone in the profession!"

The girls laugh at me, and I fold my arms across my chest in irritation. I decide to try and steer the conversation back to Alice—or well, her brother.

"So, does he live on campus, or…?"

She shakes her head. "No, he lives with his dad not far from campus, in Queen Anne. They've been trying to bond or something, I guess." She shrugs.

"Bond?" Kate asks, but I notice something else in Alice's statement.

" _His_  dad?"

"Oh, yeah, he's my half-brother, and his dad lives here." Alice sits up a bit straighter, like she's getting ready for some gossip. "My mom had this summer fling with this guy, and when she found out she was pregnant, she was too scared to contact him again, so instead she decided to raise Edward on her own. But then she met my father and married him and had me. It's all really complicated, but essentially, he's a Masen, and I'm a Brandon."

I have a bunch of questions running around in my head, but there's something that registers when I'm trying to figure out where to begin. Kate beats me to it, though.

"Wait. You're saying that Edward Masen is your brother?" She looks at Alice like she just found out she's related to Robert Pattinson. Which she might as well be, since Edward is probably the most coveted guy on campus.

Alice sighs. "Yes, he's my brother.  _Please_  don't tell me you're one of his groupies!"

Kate shrieks, "He has groupies?" between her obnoxiously loud laughs.

Alice just shakes her head. "I know. It's totally stupid. But yeah, whenever I mention that he's my brother, girls jump at me, asking to get his number or asking me to introduce them, thinking they have a chance. I'm just not a fan of being friends with someone who's only using me to get to my brother. That's why I try not to mention him to people I've just met, but I figured it's bound to come up, now that I'm living with you guys…"

Kate is all smiles while I'm internally cringing. I desperately want it to remain a secret that I've started obsessing about her brother. Only a little bit though. A teeny tiny bit. It's not that I want him or anything; I just kind of start to listen in on other people's conversations when his name is brought up…

But Kate is never the one to disappoint, and manages to embarrass me.

"Well, although he is hot, he's not really my type. But you need to watch out for that one." She points at me. "'Cause she's totally in love with the guy!" She starts laughing again.

"Hey, I'm not  _in love_  with him! I don't know him!" I turn to Alice. "Really, I think he's hot, that's all. And I won't bother you about him or anything, I promise. He can keep his harem."

Alice smiles slightly at my poor attempt at reassuring her.

"It's okay, I understand. Though he has quit his 'harem[R1] ', as you call it."

I'm certain my heart skipped a beat just there. "He did?" I try not to look too excited by the news.

Alice laughs. "Yeah, all because he's totally hung up on this girl he's been seeing around campus. Keeps telling me about how extraordinary she is, how beautiful she is, every small detail about her brown hair and brown eyes, littering her description with sappy adjectives." She cringes slightly. "Really, it makes me regret having this close of a relationship with him. And you know what?" She pauses for buildup. "He doesn't even know her name! He knows absolutely nothing about her. Zilch. Zero!"

Kate laughs with her, and between laughs she manages to point out, "God, that sounds like Bella!"

The girls continue to laugh and giggle, while I sit there, thinking about this new information. I realize that even though he is more attainable now, with the loss of the multiple girlfriends, he is still off limits, since he only has eyes for one girl. But somehow I'm relieved. Now I have hard evidence telling me that it's not happening, so I can move on.

A loud thumping on the front door distracts me. As I open it, I'm greeted by a cheery looking Emmett. I have to say that I was not expecting him to be in a good mood, since I woke him up, but there is something different about him this morning. I can't pinpoint the exact thing, but there's something about the way he's smiling, like he has his own little secret.

Instead of wondering about his cheerfulness, I smile at him and move in for a hug. Emmett never disappoints and envelopes me in his bone crushing embrace. Then he moves on to hug Kate.

"Bella, Kate, looking lovely as always."

I smile and look at Alice, who has a look of wonder on her face. It really is difficult to exaggerate Emmett's size, he's that huge. He's been obsessed with lifting weights since high school, and standing tall at six-foot-five, he can be quite scary when he needs to be. This actually proved quite useful last year, when Kate was stalked by a rather creepy looking dude.

"Emmett, this is Alice, the girl who's moving in with us," I say as soon as I have his attention back.

He looks at her and reaches out his hand to grab hers.

"Wow, you really weren't joking when you said she was tiny!" He smiles at her. "Hi, I'm Emmett McCarty, the resident go-to guy, since these two girls are too lazy to get a boyfriend of their own." He flashes a pointed smile toward Kate and me.

"Oh, come on, you know that you left pretty big shoes to fill, Emmett. No one can quite live up to the standards you left behind," I joke, nudging his shoulder.

Alice looks puzzled for a moment before Kate tells her that we used to date. Alice seems to accept that answer, but I see there is still something she's unsure about. I leave the subject when Emmett loudly claps his hands together, telling us he doesn't have all day and would prefer to get this over with.

The moving is over quickly enough, with Emmett doing most of the work. The girls and I mostly take care of the small boxes and pillows, while Emmett goes trip after trip, bringing in the big, heavy boxes. When it comes to Alice's bed, Emmett lifts one side while the three of us awkwardly lift the other, Emmett ordering us to turn this way and that way. I am  _so_  glad we only have one flight of stairs to climb with all that stuff.

After the move, I invite Emmett in for lunch, but he seems in quite a rush to get out of here.

I follow Emmett into the stairway, and my curious side surfaces.

"Emmett, what's up with you? You've been smiling all day, and I'm sure it has nothing to do with present company, since you've not said a single flirty thing to Alice all morning. I would have thought that you would hit on her as soon as you walked through the door." As an afterthought I add, "Or at least make some kind of innuendo with her bed…"

I watch his goofy smile get even bigger as he tries to avert his eyes, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. He then finally looks back at me, almost glowing.

"I met someone."

My heart soars and breaks in only one second. First and foremost, I'm happy for him. I really am. Emmett has a soft side not many people know about, and he rarely lets other people see it, especially girls. So I've watched him, ever since we broke up, making his way through the girls on campus, one fling after another, carefully avoiding getting attached, and I've never understood why. Kate even asked me once if I was sure that our breakup was mutually amicable, because apparently he was showing classic commitment phobia symptoms, which are often caused by a bad breakup.

At the same time, I realize he has finally moved on. He is officially over our relationship, and while I'm okay with becoming friends  _without_ benefits, it means that he won. I know it's childish to think this way, but this is just another reminder that I'm all alone.

I hate how much I want a boyfriend.

I manage to smile and hug him, telling him that I'm happy for him.

He looks back at me after we part. There is a hint of doubt or regret showing in his features.

"Are you really? Are you happy for me?"

My smile is now genuine, and I shake my head. "Of course I'm happy for you. Out of all the people I know, you truly deserve to find someone to make you happy!"

He smiles back and nods, before he sighs. "You just look a little somber, Bella. Are you okay?"

I look down. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just feeling a little lonely, that's all." Emmett's arms snake around me, and I instinctively lean into him for comfort. "I don't know what's wrong with me. It's just… a lot has been happening lately. Angela and Ben are moving in together. You are moving on. I even think Kate's fooling around with someone, though she hasn't told me yet." I sigh. "And I've been spending more time in Forks lately, going through my dad's stuff. It kinda puts a damper on my spirits, you know." I start sobbing now, fighting back the tears, while Emmett pats my back, trying to reassure me. Of what, I'm not sure.

I'm going to miss turning to Emmett for comfort. He has been there for me ever since that first day at Forks High. He was there when I felt rejected by my mother. He was there when I found out I would be a big sister. He was the first one ever to know about my fantasy with Dr. Cullen (which was really the beginning of the end for us). And most importantly, he was there for me when my father died.

"I just really miss him. I think I put it off for too long, going through his stuff, but I don't know… Seeing everyone else move on with their lives while I just continued to live in denial, I finally decided I couldn't put it off any longer. And it's a lot harder than I expected!" I'm full on crying now, and everything comes pouring out. "I just keep thinking, I could have prevented this, you know. I was planning to go to Forks that weekend, and if I'd gone, then maybe I could have saved him! He wouldn't have been alone! Two days! He had been dead for two days before someone found him!"

I stand there for a while, crying in Emmett's arms, while he strokes my back, shushing me like a baby. This is not the first time I've broken down because of my father's death, but this is probably the first time I voice my guilt.

It happened last February. I'd been planning on going home for the weekend to see my dad. It was probably the first time since Christmas that the opportunity had presented itself, and I was really looking forward to it. We had a great relationship, Charlie and I, even though it was very awkward at times. But then I heard of this band that was playing in town, and I decided to stay in Seattle for the weekend and have fun with the girls rather than go see my dad. I could hear the disappointment in his voice when I called him, though he tried to assure me that there was always next weekend. Except that time, there wasn't.

He had a heart attack that Saturday. When he didn't show up for work on Monday morning, his coworkers went to our house and found him dead, sitting in the living room, a can of beer spilled on the floor and the TV still on. It was all very sudden and the whole town went into shock. Charlie Swan had been very much liked, and the fact that he'd had a heart attack at his age was unimaginable.

I went to his funeral, but I couldn't stay in our house. I spent the night at Emmett's, went back to Seattle, and didn't return to Forks until late this summer. My father had left me everything, but I couldn't face the things that reminded me of him. I felt that while I stayed in Seattle and didn't think about him, he was still there somehow.

I sniffled into Emmett's shirt, slowly getting myself together again.

"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have broken down like this, when you just told me your good news!" I break away from his embrace and look at his face. He gives me a small, sad smile.

"It's okay, Bells. You need to get this shit out, and I'm glad I can be here for you."

"But you're not."

Wow, I don't know where that came looks puzzled and a little hurt.

"What do you mean?"

I sigh and look at the floor. "I don't know what I mean, it just came out… I'm sorry. I know you're there for me, but you're moving on with your life now, and I'm happy—really, I am—but I'm just realizing that you won't always be my go-to guy. You need to be there for your girlfriend; you will put her first. And you should!" I'm getting frustrated at myself. It can be really hard telling someone what's going on inside your head without some of it coming out the wrong way.

Emmett chuckles. "Yeah, I know what you mean. But I will try to be there for you as much as I can. And you will find your guy someday, and he will be so much better for you than I ever was!" He laughs and ruffles my hair.

"Oh, you weren't all bad," I say as I nudge him with my shoulder.

We stand there in the hallway while the moment passes. Finally I suck up my sullen mood and smile up at Emmett.

"So, tell me about her. Wait, it's a  _her,_  right? I didn't turn you off women, did I?"

Emmett laughs. "Hah, no, you didn't make me gay, Bells." An amazing smile appears on his face as he leans against the wall next to my door. He looks over my shoulder, lost in his thoughts as he begins to tell me about her.

"Her name is Rosalie Hale, and she is so amazingly beautiful that I feel like I'm having a heart attack every time she walks into the room. And not only that, but she's really smart! Sometimes it can be really hard to keep up with her, but she has a way of helping me understand anything. And she's a car fanatic; she probably knows as much about cars as I do! I just… She's so incredible, I sometimes wonder if she's simply a figment of my imagination or something." His voice is gentle when he voices his thoughts.

I sigh. The sight of my Emmett this happy is simply adorable. I rub his arm to get him back to the present.

"She sounds lovely. I won't keep you from her any longer. You should go to her, and tell her from me that we are extremely thankful that she was willing to lend you to three single girls in need of some muscles, and that I want to meet her, and soon!" I wink and he chuckles.

"Alright." He embraces me once more. "I'll see you soon, and I'll bring Rose with me some day for you to meet her, since you insist." He lets me go and then skips down the stairs.

I wipe under my eyes, making sure that there are no tears drying on my cheek, before I take a deep breath, put on a smile, and head back into the apartment.


	5. The Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on Simplicity is Key: Alice moves in with Kate and Bella. As they get to know each other, Alice reveals that she is Edward's half-sister. Bella gets Emmett to come help with Alice's heavy boxes, and they talk privately about Charlie's death and Emmett's new girlfriend.

_**Three weeks later** _

The couch is my friend. I love the couch. Hi couch! May I rest upon you for a moment or two?

The last class of the day is thankfully over, and I fully intend to spend the rest of the day relaxing. This week has been hellish, since the middle of the quarter is just around the corner, and the teachers are bombarding us with projects and tests. So on tonight's agenda: a bubble bath with scented candles, a glass or two of chardonnay—compliments of my newly acquired legal drinking age—and some mindless TV teen drama. But first, I need to close my eyes for just a second while I sit down on this incredibly inviting sofa. Just a moment of peace. I can't even resist the urge to sigh in contentment as I lie down on the soft cushions.

But apparently, fate—or Kate—has other plans.

The front door is flung open, and as I open my eyes to see what is causing this racket, Kate runs in before throwing herself on the sofa next to me. She's sporting a shit-eating grin, showing me all of her pearly whites.

She doesn't say anything, so I stare back, completely terrified of what she must have done.

"Um… Hi?" I sit up, dreading what's coming.

"Hi," she says back in a sugary sweet voice. It only increases my worries.

"What have you done?" I ask slowly, wary of her cheerfulness.

"Oh, Bella! I have only been the most amazing, most wonderful best friend you have ever had. I have taken it upon myself to free you from your sex-less prison, mon amie!"

I'm sure anyone walking in the hallway can hear her very clearly, since the door is still very much open.

"Uh… I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm ending your dry spell," she says, like it's the simplest thing in the world.

Millions of thoughts run through my mind, most of them involving her and me in very intimate positions. I'll admit, I have thought about it once or twice—Kate really is an attractive girl—but I think I'd need a shit load of booze before even considering going through with it.

"Um… You know I'm not into girls, right?"

She bursts out laughing. I don't see the humor in this.

"God, no! Bella, you're really cute and all, but what I meant is: I found you a date!"

"A date?"

Knowing Kate, it's probably some weirdo she is already done with. She can attract strange, strange guys. A lot of the time she goes for the free-spirited ones, going so far as to enter "level 5" at some cult convention or other. Afterward, she says it's for scientific purposes and that she can learn a lot by hanging out with these kinds of people, but sometimes she gets really invested in the whole thing.

"Yes, for tonight," she says.

"Tonight?" I groan.

She cuts me off before I can say anything else. "Yes, tonight. Look, I know you don't have a date, since I'm sure you're still very much obsessed with your Eddie but refuse to talk to him. And, unless you're planning to injure yourself and meet up with Dr. Cullen, you're not going to be gettin' any from him either. So I've decided that until you do something with either the future Doctor McDreamy, or the current Doctor McSteamy, you're going on a date tonight with my guy!"

"No," I say flatly. "I am going to relax tonight. I have a date with the bathtub, a bottle of vino and TiVo. You just tell him I'm unavailable." I huff and stand up.

"No." She drags me back down. "You have a date with Jasper, a bottle of red and chocolate cheesecake at La Rose Bleu!"

Ugh! Everyone knows that La Rose Bleu is where all the college guys take their dates so they seem really romantic and not afraid to spend some dough, when it's actually not that expensive to eat there. It's because of the French name and the extensive menu that everyone just assumes that the restaurant is top notch, when it really isn't. Not that it's bad either. It's just quite average and entirely pretentious, in my opinion.

"Why? Seriously, I just want to hang around in my PJ's tonight. And it's not like my dry spell is having any effect on your life. I'm not trying to hump you in your sleep or anything."

"Well, I'm tired of hearing you moan Dr. Cullen's name all night when you're sleeping," she says as she stands up. "'Ooh, Carlisle, I want to lick you, please… take me!'" she mimics me as she walks toward the door to close it. "It's getting louder and louder every night! I'm just saving you the embarrassment you'd inevitably encounter when you try to jump him the next time you go to the ER!"

"I will not try to jump him!" I shout as the heat spreads in my cheeks.

"Yes, you will if you don't loosen up!" She approaches me again.

"No, I won't!" I huff, crossing my arms. "And who's to say I'll even want to bone this Jasper guy? I don't give it up on the first date!"

She arches her eyebrow, calling me out on my blatant lie.

"Okay, that happened once, and he was hotter than Johnny Depp!" I'm trying to defend myself even though she probably has a shot at winning this argument. She looks like she has something up her sleeve.

"Sure. But I'll tell you one thing: Jasper is extremely hot! Blue eyes, blond, messy hair, you know, kinda like he just got laid, and he's tall and lanky but extremely well built in all areas, if you know what I mean." She winks."And he is really good in bed!" she adds.

I knew it! He's her leftovers.

"Okay, then why don't you just keep him? Since he's so yummy, and you're still dumping him on me, there must be something wrong with him."

"Oh, no, it's nothing like that! He's in my psych class, and we dated briefly two years ago, but we just ended up as friends instead. He's really awesome—one of the greatest guys I know. You're lucky I'm fixing you up with him; he deserves the best, you know!"

"But why now?"

"He broke up with his girlfriend a couple of weeks ago, so he's just looking for something casual that might turn into more. So there is no pressure or anything. Just go and have some fun with him!"

I feel defeated. I have no arguments left, and he really sounds nice. What harm could it do? At best I'll get a great romp (or at least a romp), and worst-case scenario, it'll be awkward for a couple of hours.

The date, not the sex.

If the sex is awkward, it'll hardly last more than a couple of minutes, let alone hours…

I sigh and act all defeated as I agree to go on one date with the amazing Jasper.

Kate squeals and hugs me. "Great! I told him you'd meet him at La Rose Bleu at seven, so you better get movin', babe!"

She grabs my hands, pulls me up and sends me off to my room with a playful slap on my rear.

As I stand in my room, trying to decide on shoes, clothes and make-up, I remember why I hate getting ready for dates. I mean, there are so many possibilities with ensembles, but still so few, you know? My mind is constantly filled with what-ifs, so deciding on anything is a major struggle.  
I finally give up on the whole thing and walk back out into the hallway, shouting at Kate.

"I give up! I'm going to take a shower. Could you please go through my closet and find me something to wear for my date? And maybe decide on make-up, accessories and hair while you're at it? Thank you!"

And with that, I head to the bathroom, not even waiting for a response. I know I can trust Kate. She's not all girly-girl like some other girls, and she knows that I prefer comfort over beauty.

In the shower, I allow myself to think about Edward. I've seen him here and there around campus, but every time, I pretend not to notice and instead wish he would approach me, hoping he still wants to know my name. I don't know how many scenarios I've pictured in my head where he approaches me, asks me my name, and confesses how he can't stop thinking about me. But when I start spreading my body wash on my wet skin, I can't stop myself from picturing Dr. Cullen's masculine hands instead of my own.

This constant conflict of my feelings for both of them is driving me nuts. I'm not saying that I don't want to have sex with Edward, or that I don't want Dr. Cullen to confess his attraction, but I tend to think of Dr. Cullen as the older man he is. He's about the same age my as my parents, I think. Besides, I want Edward in a whole other way, and that kind of scares me.

After the warm shower, I go back to my room, securely wrapped in a towel. As I had requested, I find an outfit laid out on my bed, an assortment of make-up on my desk, next to the hair-straightener and a pair of shoes.

I have to say, I'm quite satisfied with the outfit Kate has chosen for me. The teal corsage tie dress flows from my shoulders, only loosely tied around my waist. The shoes are a matching teal Mary Jane wedges with a low heel, since I can't really walk properly in anything higher than two inches. Kate has also gathered together an assortment of green and blue bangles, without it being too overbearing. I put them on my right wrist so I can keep my pink Hello Kitty watch on my left wrist. I've had one like it since I was eight, and I never leave the house without it.

The process of getting ready takes just over half an hour, and when I'm done, I have just enough time to make my way over to the Rose. As I leave, Kate describes his looks again and mentions that she told him to wait with a white lily for me. Yes, it's corny, but at least it's not a red rose.

It doesn't take me long to get to the restaurant, since it's only a few blocks away from my apartment. The interior is flashy and French oriented, but at a closer look, the decorations are old and not very well maintained.

When the hostess asks if I have a reservation, I realize that I don't have Jasper's last name. I assume the reservation is in his name…

"Um, well, I'm meeting a guy here, and the reservation is probably in his name. But… yeah, it's a blind date, and I only know his first name—Jasper?" I feel slightly ridiculous for not knowing the last name of my date.

"Oh, yeah, Jasper's already here. I'll take you to him." She must know him personally, judging by the way she said his name affectionately. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not. I mean, she's smiling (and it's genuine, not the fake tip-me smile most hostesses and waitresses have), but that can mean that they're good friends; that they've already dated or had sex and there are no bad feelings between them; or that he's just a really good tipper. Either way, she apparently likes him, so I hope I have nothing to worry about.

These thoughts run through my mind as I follow the hostess to our table. I'm so deep in thought that I hardly notice when the hostess stops walking. However, I notice a voice, which I'm certain I know from somewhere, says my name.

"Bella?"

Looking down at the person standing up from the table in front of me, I see a very familiar looking guy, though I'm having difficulties placing his face. Then suddenly everything clicks, and I gasp.

"Jasper?" I squeal with excitement, and half the restaurant looks up at me. I blush at the attention, but I shake it off as I reach out to hug him. Then the realization hits me.

"Wait, so you're Jasper, my blind date?" I say as I pull away from him.

He smirks at me as we both sit down.

"It depends. Are you Bella, Kate's incredibly hot roommate?" He raises an eyebrow, mocking me.

"Oh come on, admit it, you think I'm hot!" I joke back.

He pretends (or I hope he's pretending) to think for a moment.

"Well, in a completely objective way, then yes, I'd say you've turned into a hot chick, Bella, but—" He pauses, starting to look uncomfortable. "I could never… you know… think of you in that way…" He trails off, squirming in discomfort.

I laugh and shake my head.

"Yeah, I know, Jasper. I'm just messing with you."

Jasper is my cousin on my mother's side; our mothers are twins. He grew up in Forks, so when I used to spend my summers with my dad, I probably spent half my time at Jasper's house. At one point I stopped visiting Charlie during my summer vacations, and when I moved back to Forks permanently, he was gone. I haven't seen him since he was a gangly pre-teen, so it's no wonder I didn't recognize him at first.

I sigh and smile.

"So, Jasper, how have you been? Gosh, I haven't seen you in ages… How long has it been?" I start mentally counting, when he answers.

"Around eight or nine years, I think." He nods, probably going through memories, trying to find out when it was when we last met.

"Wow, I can't believe we let so much time pass! I really missed seeing you during my summers in Forks. Well, maybe not Charlie's repeated attempts to bring us fishing with him," I say, laughing. "But I've missed our trips to the beach. And then when I moved back, you were gone! What happened?"

Gosh, I really should keep my voice down. I can practically feel the annoyed stares I'm getting from the other people at the restaurant.

I reach for a bread stick and start nibbling on it to calm my enthusiasm.

"Well, Grandpa Whitlock died the summer after you stopped coming, and my father decided to move us to Texas so he could take care of the ranch. I finished high school down there, but I never really liked the stuffy, dry heat down in Weimar, so since I knew a bunch of people from Forks were going to be in Seattle, I decided to apply to UW."

His Texan drawl is slightly more distinguishable than it had been when we were little. His dad, Billy Whitlock, is originally from Texas, but he settled down in Forks when he met Lillian, my aunt, who liked the town much better than her sister did. Billy's older brother had always been intended to take care of the Whitlock Ranch with his father and then inherit the place, but when he died in a motorcycle accident it was only natural that Billy would take his place. Jasper's family left so suddenly, and aside from this short explanation from Charlie when I returned to Forks that year.

I smile at Jasper. He really has turned into a good looking guy, with his dirty blond locks and bright blue eyes, and that, paired with his southern drawl, really makes him quite drool worthy. It really is too bad that he's my cousin. Besides, I've seen him eat earth worms, so even if we weren't cousins, I would never be able to get that image out of my head.  
He reaches out and gently grabs my hand. "I heard about Charlie." His voice is quiet and filled with sympathy. Too bad I hate sympathy. It makes me feel like I should feel more—like people are expecting some kind of behavior from me. But Jasper has always been good at diffusing my uneasiness, and his warm hand, slightly squeezing mine, doesn't make me feel like something is demanded of me. I can be myself in front of him, and he won't think any less of me.

"I'm sorry I didn't make it to the funeral," he adds. "I would have liked to pay my respects."

My breathing gets a little bit more difficult as memories start running through my mind. Memories from those few difficult weeks surrounding Charlie's death; from when Jasper and I used to play with Charlie's police badge; from when Charlie drove us around town in the police cruiser, pretending we were dangerous criminals. I'm overwhelmed by the familiarity Jasper's presence brings to mind, and for a moment I had forgotten that things aren't the same they were ten years ago. Unsuccessfully trying to keep my tears at bay in this public place, I give up and crumble.

Jasper gets up, moves his chair to my side, and embraces me in a hug as he sits down. We sit there for a few moments, thankfully uninterrupted. We don't speak, we just sit, and while I know that he is mostly comforting me, I feel a bit like I'm returning the help as well. Charlie was his family too, even if just by marriage.

Bit by bit, we start a mellow conversation about our memories of Charlie and from our childhood. I listen to stories about him and the old gang from Forks, and I find it somewhat funny that, coincidentally, we hung out with the exact same crowd in Forks. He knew Angela, Emmett, Mike, Jessica and all the rest of them, and by some weird twist of fate, we never crossed paths, or even heard of each other being in the city, while hanging out with those people here in Seattle. He was actually the one to introduce Emmett and Rosalie; turns out she is his second cousin.

After much argument about the check, Jasper ends up paying for dinner, since "we were on a date, and all," and we decide to go back to my place. Jasper gives me a ride on his bike to my apartment—another thing for the girls to swoon over; Jasper in a leather jacket, riding a Harley. I never expected to be a biker chick, but the feeling of the wind twirling around you and in your hair and the powerful engine thundering between your legs... The thrill is just amazing.

On the way upstairs, I tell Jasper about Alice, the girl who moved in a couple of weeks ago, and how quickly she has become one of the most important people in my life.

"She just has this energy, you know, like she has a way of knowing things, how things are going to turn out. She is so positive all the time, and she says it's just because she knows that something good is coming. And she can always tell me if I'm stressing too much about a project, or if I need to work on something, because 'she has a feeling,' or something. It's borderline creepy, but Alice has helped me a lot in the last two weeks!"

Jasper chuckles as I put my key in the lock and open the door.

"Girls!" I shout. "I'm home!"

I walk ahead of Jasper into the living room, where Alice and Kate are sitting up on the couch, staring expectantly at me.

"So, how..." Kate begins, but then she notices Jasper and her eyes go wide. "YOU BROUGHT HIM HOME?"

Her reaction makes me laugh.

"Yeah, Kate, Alice, may I introduce you to my cousin, Jasper Whitlock." I step aside for them to get a better view of him.

Kate just looks between the two of us, looking shocked. But her shock soon gives way to a booming laughter.

"You guys are cousins? Wow, that must have been awkward!"

I just shake my head. "Nah, it was all right. We haven't seen each other in almost a decade, so we used the time to catch up."

I make my way toward the recliner and then turn to Jasper and offer him a seat. That's when I notice Alice. She's sitting beside Kate on the sofa, still turned toward Jasper, staring at him with wide eyes. I don't think I've ever seen her speechless before, and when my attention is turned to Jasper to compliment him on his skills, he has a similar expression on his face.

Sitting down, I lean toward Kate, who has also noticed this strange behavior in Alice, and whisper, "What's their deal? Do they know each other or something?"

Kate shakes her head in wonder and we both look at Alice, who has the biggest smile on her face.  
Jasper looks as puzzled as ever, and I finally give up waiting for one of them to do something.

"Jasper, why don't you sit down or something? Can I get you something to drink? Beer? Water?"  
Finally, Jasper snaps out of his awkward moment with Alice and thumps down on the love seat by Alice's end of the sofa. He shakes his head slightly, like he's trying to get rid of a thought.

"Yeah, sure, water would be nice, thanks."

I get up and walk into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water for him. I'm still not sure what to make of that exchange (if there was really any exchange) between Alice and Jasper. When I told Jasper about her, I made sure that they didn't know each other, since he knows so many of my friends already, and the look on Jasper's face assures me that he hasn't seen her before. But what was happening in there with Alice, I couldn't guess in a million years.

Just after she moved in, Kate and I gathered that she's single, and at one point she even told us she has sworn off all boys. Alice told us that she wasn't interested, that she knew exactly who would be her one and only, and she just wouldn't be bothered with anyone else until she found that guy. It all sounded like she wasn't even going to look until after she'd finish her education. By the looks of her reactions to Jasper, however, it looks like that plan isn't working for her at all. She could devour him with her eyes.

As I walk back into the living room, I hear Jasper and Alice in conversation.

"Yeah, I'm from Forks originally, but I moved with my family to Texas when I was twelve." Jasper has relaxed a little when I give him his water bottle. He nods at me as a thank you, and I turn to take my seat again on the other side of the coffee table.

The rest of the evening is spent watching Alice and Jasper talking, both of them hanging on to each other's every word. Occasionally, Kate and I share knowing glances when we can see a particular move made by either of them, which is clearly made to charm the other one. The sight of them, both leaning slightly toward each other, gazing into each other's eyes, their complete spectrum of smiles on display; you can almost see them bonding and forging their relationship.

Yet again, I'm faced with the fact that everyone is moving on and finding their partners in life, while I stand rooted in the same old spot, completely alone. This mixed feeling of happiness for others and my own self-pity is getting really old.

After a while, Kate has fallen asleep, and I'm close to exhaustion. After one extremely loud yawn from yours truly, Jasper and Alice finally come back to the real world.

Jasper checks his watch. "I should probably get going."

Alice tries to protest, but Jasper won't have it. I let Alice lead Jasper out, while I try to wake Kate up, or at least get her to walk to her own room. She probably wouldn't want to sleep on the couch the whole night. After getting Kate to bed, I walk back into the hallway and meet Alice, who is still donning that ridiculously happy smile, now paired with slightly droopy eyes. I can't help myself and grin back at her as she lets out a content sigh.

She smiles and whispers, "I told you something good was coming!"


	6. The Bad Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on Simplicity is Key: Kate sets Bella up on a date, but it turns out the date is Jasper Whitlock, Bella's long lost cousin. Bella and Jasper catch up, then they go back to her place (get your mind out of the gutter; they're cousins!) and Jasper and Alice get caught in a hazy love-bubble. Kind of.
> 
> Note: I haven't tried the guacamole trick, but according to google, it works.

**_A month later, Halloween_ **

It is one of  _those_  days. The ones where it feels like absolutely nothing is going your way.

I have never really been into Halloween. When I was younger and living with my mom, she always wanted to go with me trick or treating, and she always ended up getting all the attention. She would dress me up as a princess or a fairy, something very girly, and I hated it. The scratchy polyester material of the cheap Wal-Mart princess costumes caused rashes, the damn wings would constantly slip down my arms and I'd get tangled up in them, and the glitter from the dress or headgear would get into my eyes. It was pure horror.

Renee, however, without fail, would simply put on tiny red horns and a devil's tail.

But that's not the point. The thing is, my mother was always so obsessed with experiencing the famous "meet-cute" from the movies, where boy meets girl and they have a moment, resulting in an happily-ever-after ending, and she always expected to find  _the one_  at one of the houses we stopped by. For her, Halloween was not really a holiday for kids to harvest copious amounts of candy from the generous neighbors; no, for her it was a way to pick up guys. I love my mother, but she has always been a flake, and she has always been more of a friend than a mother. That is, until Jamie, my baby sister, was born.

Five years ago, my mom decided she wanted another baby, and while I thought that was a terrible idea, I was proved wrong. Only a year later, Jamie was born, and this time around, my mom was both prepared and excited for her arrival. As far as I know, Renee, Phil and Jamie are the picture perfect family.

Sighing, I continue making the guacamole I promised Alice I'd make for the party tonight. This day has been so horrible for me. Not only am I nervous about the inevitable meeting with Edward, but I also just received a terrible peer review in my poetry workshop, and frankly, I haven't been doing very well in that course. The fact that said poem was the most personal I've written so far makes it so much more hurtful. Try as I might to open up and be personal for that course, I just can't do it when all I get in feedback are comments about poor structure and not being creative enough with my vocabulary.

Alice is adamant that the party will be awesome, since it's kind of a belated moving-in-slash-birthday party mashed together with Halloween, which, according to Alice, is the perfect reason to have a party.

She was furious when she found out I hadn't celebrated my birthday, even though I didn't even know her then. Kate and I celebrated it with a drink the following weekend, and that was more than enough for me. I know that most people think the twenty-first birthday is the biggest milestone when it comes to birthdays, but I just feel very old with each and every year that passes, and I'd rather not celebrate it at all. When I tried to explain that to Alice, she just looked at me like I was crazy. She was slightly more appeased when I told her to be grateful that now I can buy alcohol for her.

The whole Halloween thing has been under her supervision. She has been crazy this whole month with planning this shindig, everything from organizing and making decorations, to arranging a rather extensive guest list-which includes her brother.

The thought of Edward being here tonight is rather disruptive. My stomach has been fluttering all day, ever since I realized that he would come to the party. I hate how much I want to see him. I haven't allowed myself to wonder and imagine scenarios around this inevitable meeting, knowing that it will never be as perfect as I want it to be. I keep reminding myself that he's interested in someone else, and I'm still a little bit wary of his history of piling up girlfriends. If I were ever to pursue something with him, would I even be enough for him?

And all the while my thoughts are clouded with Edward and me engaging in one romantic fantasy or another, at night I am still very much obsessed with Dr. Cullen, and that's not even consciously done. I swear, sometimes when I wake up, I feel like I have two boyfriends, and I'm constantly cheating on one with the other. These thoughts are seriously screwing up my brain. I feel like I'm going around in circles with how much I change my mind on who I want more.

The thing is, I seem to prefer Edward for all the boyfriend or cuddly stuff and Dr. Cullen for all the wild animal sex stuff. Which is weird because I'm sure Edward would be amazing in bed, and Dr. Cullen is a really good guy, and would make someone a great boyfriend. I just don't get why the two of them are so stuck in these roles in my mind. Maybe, on some level, I realize that Edward is a much better option for something serious, seeing as Dr. Cullen is that much older than I am, not to mention him being my doctor.

I'm terribly frustrated as I mash the shit out of the avocado goo in front of me. My mouth waters as I squeeze the limes, and when I add the chopped up onions, tomatoes and garlic, I'm reminded why I usually don't eat this stuff. It looks like phlegm covered vomit. Gross.

Absentmindedly, I reach for the salt. I only want to season the concoction just a bit, but when I start shaking the saltshaker over the bowl, the cap falls off and huge amounts of salt pour into the guacamole.

I scream in anger, and for a second, I want to cry.

Adding to all my frustrations, my mother informed me this morning that she and her family have purchased tickets to Seattle, intending to spend Thanksgiving with me. A part of me is grateful, but another, bigger part of me is simply annoyed.

This will be the first Thanksgiving without my dad. Usually, I went with him to Florida to visit my mom's family. I refused to go alone to Florida this year **—** another part of my denial, I guess. I just want to skip this holiday, along with all the other festive occasions. Since Charlie died, I've mostly been coaxed into joining someone for one holiday or another. Kate, for instance, tricked me into coming with her to Hawaii for two weeks of soaking in the sun, which just  _happened_  to be on the 4th of July. Her family was already scattered all around America, so she decided to go join her brother down there.

Kate comes running into the kitchen, promptly pulling me away from my thoughts. She looks warily at me as I tighten my fist around the empty saltshaker.

"You okay?" she asks, and I calmly and deliberately put the saltshaker on the table, in case I lose my temper and throw it at the wall.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to relax. "Yeah, I'm fine." I open my eyes again and attempt humor. "I'm afraid the guacamole didn't make it."

Kate looks confused at the bowl on the kitchen counter.

"What?" she asks. "I know you were trying to kill it with your mood, but surely you can't mash the life out of it?"

I laugh. She really knows how I work.

"No, it was fine. That is, until I drowned it with salt." I roll my eyes. "Apparently, I didn't screw the top on the shaker well enough after refilling it."

"Oh…" She looks around the kitchen for a moment. "Well, you could always make more guacamole to even things out…"

I frown. "Won't it just get ruined if it isn't finished tonight?"

Kate immediately perks up, getting really excited. "Oh, don't worry, it won't. I know a really good way to preserve it! You just put a small amount of mayo on top after putting it in a container," she says as she demonstrates this with her hands, "and when you want to use it again, you stir the mayo in!" she finishes, stirring imaginary guacamole. "It's brilliant!"

I laugh at her gestures; she gets so easily excited about random things.

"Yeah, maybe I should just make some more." I'm feeling a little bit better, or at least not as annoyed as earlier. I still have a bad feeling about this whole thing; my bad luck can't be over just yet. It really is one of  _those_ days.

* * *

 

After making some more guacamole, I now have a cut on my finger from chopping the onions, and a bruise is forming on my upper arm from walking into a door frame. My good mood was short-lived, and I have no desire to socialize. All I want to do is lock myself in my room and watch sappy romance movies until the whole thing is over.

However, I promised Alice I'd be there, and, bless her, she's been trying to get me into a good mood all day. Also, I promised Emmett I'd meet his girlfriend. I still can't believe that he's been with her for over four months now.

I've showered and put on my costume, which is some kind of a distorted version of Belle from  _Beauty and the Beast_. Alice was in charge of the costumes, of course, and when she brought home the one for me just over an hour ago, I wanted to throttle her. She asked me earlier this week if I had any ideas of what I wanted to be. As ever, my mind was blank, so she took it upon herself to arrange it.

The costume looks like a golden corset, with a white frilly front crossed with golden ribbons and a slightly poofy short skirt laced with more frills. The whole thing is topped off with thigh high white stockings and black pumps. In other words: a total fail for someone like me. This is just another thing that makes me want to crawl into bed and wait until this day is over.

I bury my head into my hands as I sink down on the bed. My bedroom door is quietly opened, and someone walks across the floor and sits by me.

"You sure you're okay?" Kate asks tentatively.

I sigh. "Yeah, I'll just have to get through this evening and the curse will be broken." I try to smile, but it's not working so well.

"I'm sure Alice will understand if you want to just skip the party," she suggests. "You could go to the library or drive down to Forks or something?"

I smile more genuinely now, grateful for having a friend like Kate. "I'll be fine. I don't want to be the dork hanging out at the library on Halloween, and it's too late to go to Forks right now. And besides, judging by the day I've been having so far, I'd probably end up in a ditch somewhere on the way," I joke, laughing feebly at my weak attempt at humor.

"Well, if you're sure…"

"Yeah, I'm sure." I'm determined to at least try to survive the evening. Besides, a tiny part of me is a little hopeful that I might meet Edward tonight.

"Alright," she says firmly. "Just, if you need anything, let me know."

Feeling grateful, I smile and hug her. "Thank you. You're an awesome friend, you know that, right?"

She laughs into my hair. "Yeah, well, you're way awesomer, since you put up with my shit."

Squeezing her one last time, I let go of her, smiling. "Thank you," I whisper. Then I straighten up, trying to be more serious. "So, will you help me with my hair and make-up? I really need to downplay this costume thing." I try hoisting up the bust of my corset and look at myself in the mirror for the hundredth time tonight. I don't cringe as much as I did the first time I looked at myself in it, but I still feel rather under dressed.

Kate, dressed as Cat Woman, does a fantastic job with my make-up. Boss-man Alice **—** in Wonderland, of course **—** peeks in on us at one point and instructs Kate on how to do my hair, but when she leaves again, Kate tones it down and makes a curled, loose side ponytail. One thing I've found out about Alice is that she's quite extravagant. There's nothing she does half-heartedly.

To make up for the sluttiness of the outfit, I put on my favorite pair of hot pants, which are brown with pictures of chickens doing the chicken dance. And to top it all off, I decide to chuck the killer pumps, and pull on my thick, white wool socks. Thankfully, they have rubber things on the bottom, so I don't have to worry about sliding everywhere in them.

I stand in front of my full size mirror, proud of being able to feel comfortable in spite of the original idea. I also pull a comfortable sweater out of my closet and put it on my bed, in case I get cold later on. I think I'm ready to face the evening and all its scary potential.

* * *

 

Although technically it's Alice who's throwing this party, I feel like I'm doing all the work. Alright, Alice did plan it and make all the arrangements, and Kate did most of the food stuff, but almost from the get go, I've been running around, putting up trash cans, picking up empties, taking people's coats and putting them away… after three hours on my feet, I'm exhausted.

Some of this might be because I'm overly anal over small things like that. Sometimes I just feel that if I don't do things right away, no one will do it and it will lead to total anarchy. I'm perfectly aware that the world won't end if things don't get done, but at times, I can get irrationally paranoid over unimportant stuff.

So far, I haven't seen Edward. I've heard that he's here somewhere, but somehow we keep missing each other, even though this apartment is not all that big. A large part of me is glad that I don't have to worry about resisting him, but there's still a tiny bit of me that wishes and wonders if seeing him again would be magical. There's always that little bit of hope.

It's stuffy in the living room, people filling up any space available. I'm reminded of playing Sardines with some of the kids back in Arizona; one after another squeezing themselves into a tiny closet or a cupboard under the staircase.

I decide to grab my blue wrap-around sweater from my room and flee out onto the balcony. Immediately, I notice a couple of people talking together out there, and at first, I think of returning inside, but when I hear the joined sounds of Jasper and Emmett laughing, I decide it might not be too bad staying outside with them. At least I'm not walking in on people making out.

Their laughter trails off as I approach them, and the sight of their camaraderie makes me smile. They are facing each other, both looking down, as if they are taking a trip down memory lane.

"Hey, guys," I say, making myself known.

"Hey!"

"Bella!"

I'm greeted with loud calls and smiles. "What are you guys talking about?" I ask as I lean against the railing next to Emmett. At first I'm tempted to lean against him, a habit I guess, but I decide not to.

"Oh, we were just remembering when Ben Cheney shaved off his hair because he heard Angela say she didn't like hairy guys," Emmett says, sharing glances with Jasper, who had obviously been there.

I smile, trying to imagine a bald Ben Cheney. I'm not sure he's the type who could pull that off; he has always been kind of dorky, and he has to wear these awful coke-bottle-bottom-glasses which make his eyes look much bigger than they actually are. The image of him bald makes me giggle.

"Gosh, that can't have been pretty!" I bring a hand up to my face, trying to hide behind it. I reach with my other hand around my front, tucking it under my elbow to keep my sweater in place. The night is surprisingly warm, considering how late it is in the year.

"Yeah, it made his ears really stick out!" Jasper says, pushing his own out to emphasize his point.

"Oh, yeah! How could I forget the ears?" I laugh, remembering another incident, and turn towards Emmett. "Why was it again that he shaved a mohawk in our senior year?"

Emmett responds with a booming laughter. "Ah, I had forgotten about that one!" he says between laughs. Jasper looks between us, chuckling at Emmett. "I guess that was my fault," Emmett finally continues after getting over his laughing fit. "It was a stupid game we played on the way home from one of our baseball meets," Emmett explains. "Cheney could choose either to streak over the field at our next game or shave a Mohawk. I guess he's a bit prudish…" he trails off.

We stand in the corner for a while, remembering old stories from high school. Yet again, I'm accosted with the feeling of how strange it is that Jasper and I know all the same people from Forks, and though we weren't at school together, it feels a bit like we were.

Not long after my arrival, a tall blonde girl steps out onto the balcony. I've only seen her around inside this evening, and I have no idea who she is, but she smiles as soon as she sees us and hurries over. I can only assume she knows one of the guys. It's a little surprising to see her walking straight into Emmett's arms.

When I realize this must be Rosalie, I self-consciously step away from Emmett and move over to Jasper's side. The smile on Emmett's face is unlike anything I've ever seen before. I step closer to Jasper, feeling a little lonely all of a sudden. His arm closes around me, like he somehow knows that's exactly what I need, and I'm slightly comforted.

After the lovebirds share a rather nauseating kiss, Rosalie turns towards Jasper and me, Emmett's arms tangling with hers around her body. If I weren't so damn jealous of what they have together, I might have even found it adorable.

"Hey," she greets us, smiling. Even her voice is honey blonde. She's not that much shorter than Emmett, but short enough that her head falls just to the side of his chin. Her hair is not that platinum dye job blonde, but a beautiful golden shade. Her eyes could be described as a dull shade of gray, but truthfully, they are so sparkling gray that I'm sure the prettiest blue would pale in comparison. Her figure is just perfect; a little bit like Emmett had made her after his own desires. She's wearing a white princess Leia costume **—** matching Emmett's Han Solo **—** and she's definitely the most drool-worthy girl at the party, if not the city. Hell, even I want to do her a little bit.

I'm snapped from my inner musings when she speaks again.

"So, you must be Alice," she says, smiling at me. "It's nice to finally meet you. Though I thought you were shorter…" she trails off, a puzzled expression on her face as she looks me up and down.

"Um, no… I'm Bella," I answer back, a bit surprised. I can't quite understand why she would make that assessment.

My heart drops when her face and body suddenly turn frigid. She stands up a little straighter in Emmett arms, clutching his hands tighter to her body, and she's glaring at Jasper's arm on my shoulder. The first thing that comes to mind is:  _territorial_.

I shiver under her gaze. I don't like how she seems to dislike me even before she's even talked to me.

"Bella, meet Rosalie, my girlfriend," Emmett offers, seemingly a little tense. I can't deny that this situation is a little bit awkward, with the new girlfriend meeting the ex.

Jasper strokes my arm, trying to calm me, and I'm reminded that this bad day isn't over yet, therefore this meeting can't go over all that well. Resigned, I stand a little straighter, and plaster a smile on my face.

"It's nice to meet you, Rosalie. Emmett has told me wonderful things about you." I try to be as sincere as I possibly can, but all the while waiting for her to bite my head off. She has that energy about her that says she might just do that.

To my surprise, she relaxes a bit and offers a small smile. "Thank you. He's told me some good things about you, too." It doesn't escape me that those are only  _some_  good things.

"You look really good together," I offer with a genuine smile. I snuggle a bit into Jasper, for a moment forgetting that he's my cousin, not a boyfriend.

There's awkward silence for a few moments before Rosalie breaks it. "So, how did you and Jasper meet?"

I look puzzled at her for a moment. "Um… our mothers are twins…" I offer feebly.

Rosalie looks between us, narrowing her eyes at us. "Wait. So you're cousins?" she asks.

"Yeah." I nod.

There's silence again.

Then Rosalie laughs; a booming laughter, not so different from Emmett's, only a little more feminine. And with that, the tension is broken.

"God, I thought you were some evil bitch, trying to steal Jasper away from his Alice." She laughs.

I'm surprised by her reaction. As far as I know, nothing has happened between Jasper and Alice, aside from that strange meeting a couple of weeks back. I twist to see Jasper's reaction to Rosalie's statement, and to my wonder I see that he's blushing.

"Jasper!" I say in shock, but smiling all the same. "What's this about 'your Alice?' When did that happen?" I ask, turning fully around and lightly poking him in the chest.

Jasper looks thoroughly embarrassed and awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. "Well, she's not really mine, per se. We've just been talking a bit, you know… on the phone…" he trails off.

"Wait, where did you get her phone number?" I ask, wondering if they have any other common acquaintances.

"Um… she contacted me. I sorta assumed you gave her my number," he says, puzzled.

"I'm pretty sure I didn't give it to her," I say, and add, "although Kate might have…"

Jasper shrugs. "Well, she somehow got my number, and we've been talking and stuff."

"Stuff?" Emmett pipes in, nudging and winking at him. To my surprise, the ever-calm Jasper blushes again.

"No!" He frowns at Emmett. "I haven't met her since then. Well, until tonight."

There's awkward silence again, until Rosalie speaks. "Well, what you've told me about her sounds lovely. I'm sure you'll do well with her." I'm surprised by the warmth in her voice and gesture when she rubs Jasper's arm in comfort. I wonder how she can be so affectionate towards Jasper. They can hardly be just acquaintances.

"How exactly do you two know each other?" I ask, looking between Jasper and Rosalie.

Rosalie is the first to responds, smiling. "Well, we're cousins as well! His grandma Whitlock is my aunt," she explains. Her kind behavior towards him makes so much more sense now.

It hits me all of a sudden, how small my world is. Everyone seems to be connected together by other ways than just through me. They say that everyone knows everyone through six degrees of separation or fewer. I'm finding this theory quite true. So far, my cousin knows my ex-boyfriend and my roommate, his cousin is my ex's current girlfriend… I don't know of any more connections, but this alone makes my head spin.

I also find it quite weird how all these links have completely evaded me. I don't know, maybe I've just been too oblivious to make the connection before.

I stand there, thinking about my new-found discovery, while the rest of them chat about everything and nothing. It's not until Emmett offers me a bottle of beer that I'm brought back into the conversation. I politely decline Emmett's offer, although wonder where he got it, and listen to them talk about some guy called Ed. For a brief moment, I wonder if they are talking about Edward, and my stomach fills with crazy butterflies.

All I gather from their conversation is that this Ed is at the party, he is a student, and he has had classes with both Rosalie and Emmett. I'm too scared to ask them if they are actually talking about Edward Masen, so I just quietly listen in and try to pick up every little detail about this Ed. Nothing they say affirms or denies my theory, and frankly, I'm a bit disappointed.

Feeling cold, and in serious need of a bathroom, I say goodbye to present company, and make my way inside again. When I step into the warmth of the living room, I'm accosted by stale air, permeated with the aroma of beer. It's as if I just stepped into an oxymoron, seeing as how good it feels to be inside the disgusting atmosphere of the living room. But it's warm, and it feels nice.

I have to weave my way through the room to make it to the hallway. I notice that my half an hour outside has clearly made its mark, since there are bottles and trash on every surface possible. But my need to pee is greater than the need to tidy up the place, so I do my best to look past all that.

As I pass the kitchen, I notice Kate chatting with some guy I've never seen before. Her body language clearly shows that she's set the flirt on full mode; she's slightly hunched, to make sure the guy has a perfect view of her cleavage, and so that she can look up at him from under her lashes, while stroking her costume's cat tail. When I hear her mention something about "pussy" I'm sure that she means he's welcome to have hers.

I giggle as I continue, but then I remember that I have to listen to that shit later tonight. It will hardly make my day any better.

Rounding the corner into the hallway, I look up to gather my surroundings, only to see that my bedroom door is ajar. I'm pretty sure I locked it earlier tonight, precisely so people wouldn't get in and start fucking.

Carefully, I make my way towards my bedroom, not entirely sure I want to see anything that might be happening in my bed; it quite possibly might ruin it for me. Despite preparing to see people doing the nasty on my bed, I have to note that the act can't be that exciting, seeing as I can't hear any noise coming from within.

Just before I can see properly into my room, someone further opens the door and walks out. No, not just someone.  _Edward_  walks out.

For a second, I freeze, staring straight into his eyes. This is it. This is where I can flirt with him, get his attention. I could **—**

I hear some girl calling his name from within my room. His eyes go wide, but I can't see more of his reaction, since my own guts tell me to run. I turn and go straight into the bathroom opposite my bedroom. After locking the door, I rest against it and resist the urge to bang my head on it.

I can't believe I just caught Edward coming out of my room, after he was doing god-knows-what in there with some girl. I can't believe I actually thought he would be interested in me after a drunken night ending with me refusing to give him my name and him kissing my vomit-stinking mouth.

Tears stream down my cheeks, and I slowly start to realize how much I actually feel for him. It's scary how far this crush and obsession with him has actually gone, and it's slightly ridiculous how much it hurts to have lost something I never really had.

Someone knocks on the door, and I try to shout "Busy" as normally as I can. I don't know if it sounds convincing, but the knocker doesn't try again.

As I look around, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I feel imprisoned. I can't go out just yet, since Edward might still be out there. I can't even think about going to my room. My thoughts are filled with images of Edward and his mystery lady in various positions in there; passionate lovemaking in my bed; quick fuck up against the dresser, or in my desk chair, facing the mirror.

A strangled cry escapes me, and I end up climbing into the bathtub, determined to just sleep in there. I keep playing the meeting over and over again in my head, the look of shock on his face when he saw me, the girl's voice calling his name, his eyes wide… I can't even decipher that last look.

I sit there until I start to feel numb. Occasionally, someone knocks on the door, some shout profanities through it, and others ask if someone is in there. But I don't care. They can use the tiny bathroom next to the kitchen. Mostly it just all blends into one. I have no idea how long I've been in the tub. I'm vaguely aware of the music playing outside, and when I notice it's not there anymore, I have no idea how long it's been since it stopped playing.

The thing that bothers me the most is that I have no right to feel this betrayed. I have barely spoken to the guy, aside from a few drunken words. Hell, I've been willing myself to not want him for the past couple of months.

I'm almost asleep when I hear a tentative knock.

"Bella, are you in there?" Kate asks quietly through the door. I don't know if I should answer her or just continue to try and sleep. My need for a friendly face and reassurance eventually overrides the need to be alone, so I struggle to get out of the tub and make my way towards the door. My joints ache from lying in the cold, hard bath.

I unlock the door and slowly open it. Kate takes one look at me before she sighs "Oh Bella," and envelopes me in a hug. The friendly gesture makes me cry again, and I silently sob into her shoulder.

"What happened?" she asks, stroking my hair and down my back. I can't say anything just yet, so I just shake my head, signaling that I don't want to talk about it.

"Alright," she replies to my gesture, patiently standing there with me while I cry it out.

It doesn't take long for me to get myself together, since I've spent so much time weeping already. When I pull away from her, Kate strokes my face and asks, "Do you want to go to bed?"

I cringe, remembering that I do  _not_  want to go to bed. Not my bed, anyway.

"I can't…" I try, but my voice breaks. I sniffle a bit. "Can I stay with you tonight? I… I think someone had...," my voice breaks again, but I continue, "had sex i-in my bed…"

"God! Yeah, sweetie, no problem! Just go on and make yourself comfortable. I'll go get your jammies, and we'll wash your sheets in the morning," she offers, stroking my arms. I know that she knows it's something more than just that, but I'm grateful that she's willing to overlook it at the moment.

I get ready for bed while getting myself together. I refuse to be more pathetic about this situation than I already am. I was never entitled to him, and I probably never will be.


	7. The ER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on SiK: The girls throw a Halloween party, yay! Bella's in a bad mood and things are going backwards for her, and looks like Emmett's girlfriend is not her fan, though it's mostly because she thinks Bella is stealing Jasper from Alice. Turns out everyone knows everyone. And of course, to make her day even better, she finds Edward in her bedroom with another girl. Or she hears them. Already feeling way overwhelmed by her bad luck, she runs into the bathroom and locks herself in for the rest of the night. Can someone say "drama queen"?

**_About three weeks later._ **

Whenever I feel sad or angry, or when I simply need some space to think, I tend to end up on top of buildings. I don't know when it began, but somehow, when I'm feeling down, I literally go up. Maybe it began when Renee and Charlie were separating.

I don't remember much from that period, but there is one memory clear in my mind. I was sitting on top of the garage next to our home in the cold autumn rain, watching the lights coming from the neighboring houses. I watched with fascination as the Joneses, a quite fit couple in their fifties living in the house opposite ours, kissed and had sex right there in their living room. It was weird, since I was vaguely aware that this was how babies were made, and the Joneses were way past the baby making period **—** or that's what I thought, since both their sons were grown and had already moved away. I remember wondering if my mom and dad ever did that. In my world, a mom and a dad were simply the two people who lived with you and told you what to do. While I sat there watching, I realized the neighbors did what they did because they liked each other; the looks on their faces was evidence enough. Although as things became more heated, it sort of looked like they were trying to kill each other. To the six-year-old me, they looked so awful!

My parents never showed their affections in front of me. At one point I thought Charlie might actually be Renee's dad as well, since Dad called all the shots **—** always reminding her of her responsibilities and telling her to do this or that **—** and Renee was always more affectionate towards other men. I don't think she actually cheated on my dad, but there are things about my childhood I'm still trying to piece together. I'm not good with dates or chronological order when it comes to childhood memories.

This last month has been rough on me, and I feel like I've been slowly sinking into the dark abyss of loneliness. Not only is the damned poetry class bringing my GPA down, but now I seem to be doing poorly in  _all_  of my subjects. Stress and anxiety are becoming really familiar feelings for me.

And then there's the whole Edward thing…

I push open the door on top of Meany Hall **—** home of the performing arts **—** and step outside, accosted by the cold weather. I know I'm not supposed to be up here, but after two years of volunteering and running errands for teachers **—** in other words: sucking up **—** I've found really good hiding places for depressing times. And somehow I've ended up with quite the collection of keys for campus doors.

The sky is gray and overcast, and though it's not that late, it casts shadows over the city. The wind is calm, and the farther I step out onto the roof, the more I find everything to be eerily quiet. There is something about the heavy sky that looks foreboding, and I shiver slightly as I walk farther toward the edge of the rooftop, clutching my coat tighter to my body. It's not too cold, but a strange, cold feeling spreads around my insides, and I feel like I'm all alone in the world.

Closing my eyes, I inhale the refreshing air, allowing myself to relax. When I open my eyes again, I look down to the ground and note the browns and the yellows of the trees, signaling the oncoming winter. Glancing around the rooftop, I see a rather conveniently located, sturdy looking crate, so I climb on top of it and get comfortable, resting my back against a concrete wall. I now have a perfect view of the Red Square and surrounding buildings. The sight calms me down and brings my mind to peace. At this very moment, I feel like all my jumbling thoughts are clearer and slower, more in order. Smiling wistfully, I take in my surroundings. It never ceases to amaze me how beautiful the UDub campus actually is.

Leaning my head back against the cold concrete, I sigh, remembering why I'm here.

After a careful examination of my bed, the day after Halloween, Kate and I decided that it had  _not_  been defiled. Although I felt a little better about the situation, I still changed my sheets. Even though my bed was safe, I nevertheless had a bad feeling that Edward had been up to something nasty with that girl in my bedroom. The whole week after the party, I felt like my insides were crawling, especially whenever I came up with a new scenario of his tryst in my room. Sometimes I think I deliberately seek out to feel this miserable.

The girl's voice has been haunting me since that night. It sounded so familiar, but I still can't quite place it. And the more I try to remember how it sounded, the more I tend to imagine scenarios where it turns out to be really obvious who it was, like a boy pretending to be a girl, or even just Alice showing him around the apartment.

Alice hasn't said anything about the relationship status of her brother, and I've been careful not to ask. Resigned, I've slowly been getting over my feelings for the guy, and now I only feel kind of numb. I've not thought of him, or of Dr. Cullen, since Halloween. I just can't think any more about something I can't have. I feel like I've been struggling to keep my head above water since then, with the emotional stress and academic pressure weighing me down night and day. My dreams have been peacefully empty; it's like my body knows that my mind needs to be left alone.

Today was the last day of school before Thanksgiving. Alice just left for Chicago, and Kate, my social crutch **—** the one person who's been keeping me going these past few days **—** is leaving for San Francisco tomorrow. Tomorrow is also when Renee is flying in from Florida with her little family.

I am kind of dreading tomorrow. I know that my mom wouldn't be coming if I hadn't straight out refused flying out to Jacksonville to stay with them for the week. I guess she figures it's not smart to leave me alone in Seattle for a family holiday. She's probably right, though. I mean, look at me! I've reached rock bottom, practically drowning in my own loneliness and misery, even though Kate's still in town, and right now I plan on getting absolutely shitfaced tonight. Since everyone is leaving tomorrow to spend quality time with their families on Thursday, there are going to be parties all over campus.

Flakes of snow start drifting back and forth in front of me, flying gently in random directions. I've been staring at the same spot for a while now, so it surprises me slightly to see a delicate white blanket over every surface. Snow is not something seen every day in Seattle, so I'm pleasantly surprised as I calmly watch one snowflake after another make its way down to the ground, eventually losing sight of them. The slow movement, up, down and to the side, is mesmerizing, and it isn't until I watch one move lazily towards me and dissolve on my nose, that I'm brought back into the present.

I sit, cross-eyed, staring at my nose, shocked by the moisture collecting on it. A small giggle escapes me. And once I start, I find that I can't stop. With every breath it evolves and grows, and soon I'm clutching my sides, laughing so hard it hurts. It's strangely freeing, to let it out in a stolen laughter.

When I calm down, I smile, despite the feeling of desperation wrapping itself around me again. These moments are rare, and I know it. Someday, I will rise from this lame feeling; I will be happy. Things just can't stay like this.

With a heavy sigh, I shake the damp snow from my hair, and push myself to stand up. I've been here for over an hour, most likely, and it's starting to get dark. I better get going, since I have to get ready for a major night of partying.

* * *

 

Everything is so fuzzy and blurry all of a sudden. People are touching me, crowding me, and I feel like my personal space is being seriously violated. I'm at my third party of the evening, and the location of Kate is a complete mystery to me. I think I lost her at the second one, but I can't be sure. Maybe it's because I'm slightly inebriated at the moment.

Actually, that's a lie. I'm fucking wasted. And it's not all that surprising, considering the amount of alcohol I've consumed. Let's just say that when I drink, I tend drink a LOT. After finishing a few beers, a bottle of white whine, and a couple of cocktails here and there, I've moved on to just tackling guys with flasks and vodka bottles, begging for a sip or two. Yes, I know it's risky, trusting that none of those guys has put roofies in their drinks, specifically to get girls like me, but I just don't care.

I'm so drunk I'm seeing double or even triple, I can't walk straight for the life of me, and I'm bound to end up in the hospital tonight. If not for alcohol poisoning, then probably for its effects: heightened clumsiness.

My short denim skirt is matched with thick black leggings, which is great, since it is kinda cold outside, and I'm pretty sure I'd be giving everyone a good peep show without it. I also have on a red and blue printed top, with a weird neckline and a fake zipper, going from my rib-cage down to the opposite hip. Very rocker chick. My shoes are probably my death sentence tonight; black patent-leather shoes with a three inch heel. Oh, and the soles and the lining inside the shoes are hot pink. Yeah, they're Alice's. Which is funny, because her feet are infinitely smaller than mine, but they still fit.

God, I have absolutely no idea where I am. Confused, I stare down a flight of stairs with strangers flanking me on either side. There are a couple of faces I recognize from some of my classes, and faces I've seen around campus, but I don't think I know anyone here by name. And I have no idea how I ended up here. I don't even remember walking up the stairs. If I had been smart, I wouldn't have done it at all. I know that a drunk Bella will inevitably fall down the stairs, if presented with the opportunity. And look, here it is!

I stare longingly down the staircase, which smoothly descends in an L shape. I really want to get down there, maybe even head outside and get some air. It's getting pretty stuffy in here.

Alright, here we go...

Tentatively, I take a step down, then another and one more. But, alas, the fourth step seems to be my breaking point, as I lose my balance and all of a sudden, I'm having a strange sense of déjà vu while tumbling down. I'm pretty sure I roll a time or two - though I can't be certain - and then finally I'm stationary.

This was way too much, way too fast. I sit at the bottom of the stairs, looking straight forward as I'm trying to gather my bearings. One of my shoes has fallen off, and I'm sure that if I weren't so drunk right now, I would probably be bitching about a twisted ankle. But I don't feel a thing.

Suddenly I realize that someone is screaming, and people are starting to gather around me. A guy I don't know pulls me up to my feet and has a vice grip on my upper arms - so I won't fall, I'm sure - and I'm vaguely aware that he's asking me something. My head feels wobbly, and I just stare into his icy blue eyes, and I think I'm mumbling something about déjà vu. It's all just a véjà du... no wait, déjà vu! It's all alright, 'cause it's just déjà vu. Yes…

He's asking me if I have a concussion. I just shake my head, unable to think about anything but his blue, blue eyes. They are just  _so_  blue. Some other people are feeling the back of my head, someone is moving my hand this way and that, and I think someone is trying to put the other shoe back on my foot.

Idiot. It's probably safer to remove the other one.

The blue-eyed boy speaks. "Bella, the ambulance is here, I'm taking you to the emergency room."

I just nod and try to walk along side him to the front door, but as I take the first step, I feel a sharp pain shooting from my heel and all the way up my thigh. I scream out and fall back on Mr. Blue Eyes. A paramedic has joined us, and suddenly I'm swept off my feet by a stranger in a thick black jacket. He carries me to the ambulance and sets me down on a stretcher in the back.

On the way, the paramedic asks me questions about what happened: am I hurting anywhere, how many fingers am I seeing, what's my name and age, that sort of stuff. I just answer the best I can, trying my best not to slur too much, though I can feel the haze is slowly lifting the longer we drive.

Finally, we arrive at the hospital. They weren't really rushing, since apparently I'm not bleeding or seriously broken. Though, when the ambulance stops, I feel a jolt of panic when I realize I'm about to see Dr. Cullen. That is bad. That is  _really_ bad, since I'm lonely and horny, and still rather tipsy.

They wheel me in on the stretcher, and yes, there he is. The lust of my life: Dr. Carlisle Cullen. The sight of him in his blue scrubs and white medical coat hugging his broad, masculine shoulders, a stethoscope draped around his neck, his golden hair disheveled (I'm starting to see a pattern here, seems like all the guys I'm attracted to have sex hair...), and he has a slight five o'clock shadow gracing his jaw. I sigh and let my head fall back on the pillow.

The sight of him  _really_ turns me on.

I can almost feel Dr. Cullen walking over to my bed. Knowing that the EMTs have briefed him about my case, I'm hoping that he won't make me embarrass myself by having to retell the story.

He chuckles above me. "Bella Swan, I haven't seen you in a while! How are you this evening?"

I open my eyes and stare into his clear blue eyes. I try to shrug, though I'm not sure it was quite as nonchalant as I meant for it to be. "Oh, you know, just dandy."

He chuckles again. "Well, I think we should be able to find you an empty room. It's pretty slow here tonight, so we can get you some privacy."  _Thank you!_  I think gratefully. I have a feeling that this evening might turn out to be even more embarrassing than drunkenly falling down a flight of stairs.

He helps me sit up on the bed. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah, I think so, but my ankle's pretty sore, though." I sit up, wincing slightly when my hurt ankle accidentally hits one of the iron rods under the bed.

"Alright. Here, grab my hand and put your weight on me." He puts his arm around my waist, my right hand clutching his arm where his hand is supporting me, my left hand gripping his left in a strong hold in front of us. All the contact is slightly distracting, but we manage to get me into an empty room. He helps me towards another hospital bed and lifts me so I can sit down on it. He then moves to close the door before taking a seat on a stool next to the bed.

"So, Bella. What happened?" There is a hint of humor in his eyes, but I can see that he's doing his best not to laugh at me.

"Well, I found out the hard way that alcohol, high heels, and a flight of stairs is not a good combination for one Bella Swan." I try to be blasé about it, looking casually around the room, but I just feel so incredibly stupid and naive, so I end up looking at the floor instead.

"Okay, can you tell me where it hurts?"

I reach out my left foot and wrist in a slightly drunken manner, and I manage to knock the back of my hand against his chest, since I wasn't looking. Shocked, I pull it back, only to reach it out again, more careful of where it's going. "Sorry," I mutter, as he reaches for my wrist and begins rotating my hand.

"Oh, and my back is starting to feel a little sore," I add, "And I think my upper thigh is starting to bruise." He nods, still inspecting my wrist. I can't help but feel tingly where his fingers brush and poke my skin.

The wrist is only slightly sore, so he quickly wraps it up in the type of elastic thingy they use for support, and moves on to inspect my foot. My ankle feels much worse than my wrist, and I wince slightly when he carefully removes my shoe. Now that sight makes my heart really start speeding. I struggle to keep my breathing normal while he prods my ankle, and thankfully, the pain really helps taking my mind of his presence.

As he\ examines me, he decides a drunk Bella is a good conversationalist.

"So, Bella, what are you doing for the holidays?"

"Nothing much, really," I answer. "My mom is flying in tomorrow with her family, since I didn't want to go to Florida, and she doesn't know how to cook a turkey properly. That, and she probably felt guilty about me spending Thanksgiving alone. My roommates are both going to visit their families; one of them left this afternoon, actually. Or, well, I guess it's yesterday now..." I trail off, slightly confused. It can sometimes be really confusing being awake after midnight.

Dr. Cullen nods. "Well, that's nice of your family, flying all the way from Florida to keep you company!" he says cheerfully.

"Oh no," I shake my head, "it really isn't. I'm not really a part of their family any more. I hardly know Phil at all, and Jamie barely knows who I am. All they are doing is reminding me that I have no one." Geeze, I guess this is the extremely honest part of my drunkenness. I think I should just shut up now.

He puts my foot down after wrapping it up in more elastic stuff, then puts his hand on my knee and squeezes it reassuringly and looks up into my eyes.

"Of course you have people who care about you, Bella. Even though you haven't been much around your mother these past few years, I'm sure she doesn't love you any less. And you have Kate and Angela, and your ex-boyfriend… what is his name again?"

"Oh, yeah, Emmett." I blush slightly, remembering the moment Emmett and I decided we weren't working anymore, and how Dr. Cullen had a lot to do with that. But I refuse to be dragged from the present, so I continue, "Yeah, I know they love me, but still. They all have their own partners; they have someone they are looking forward to grow old with..." I trail off, and don't bother mentioning that I haven't actually got any evidence of Kate's relationship status.

"Sorry, Doctor Cullen," I mumble shyly. "I shouldn't be bothering you with my depressing thoughts. It's just a bad combination of the holidays coming and the amount of liquor still in my system, you know..."

He sighs. "Bella, for the last time,  _please_ , call me Carlisle. We see each other on such a regular basis that I think we can take that step." He winks at me, smiling his award-winning smile. And no, I'm not sure if he's actually won a prize for it, I'm just sayin'.

I can't help but to smile back at him; there is no way I can resist this smile.

"Now, lay down on the bed, on your stomach," he orders, and for a second my mind thinks he's actually proposing sex. "I'm going to see if I can do something about your back." Oh…

I do what he says, and the tingles come back full force when I feel him dragging my top up, exposing my back. The feeling of his large hands brushing up my sides is making it difficult not to squirm under his touch. He feels up my back, carefully kneading it, and I can't stop the occasional moan escaping. It feels  _soooo_  good.

I do realize I'm getting much better service than is normal at a hospital, but this is just how it works between Dr. Cullen and me. Over the years, we've become so familiar with each other, and whenever things are slow, I get extra care.

He continues his ministrations for a couple of minutes, but eventually he withdraws his hands, and clears his throat. "Alright Bella, you can sit back up now," he says, sounding a bit uncomfortable. "Um, I'm going to have to ask you to remove your leggings so I can check out your thigh…"

Oh, right. That's it. This is where I'll just have to bite my tongue and sit on my hands, so I won't do anything inappropriate while he touches the bare skin on my upper thigh. _Fuck_.

I slowly move to stand up and start pulling my leggings down, carefully making sure that my skirt is staying put. Not that it will do any good; I will eventually have to drag it up to show him where I'm bruising. Finally, I remove my leggings completely and I put them beside me when I sit back down on the bed. I do my best to avoid looking at Carlisle at all cost.

"Which side?" he asks.

I shift in my seat and move so my right side is closer to the edge. I then drag up my skirt as much as I need to.

Have I mentioned that I hate denim skirts? You move one side, and the other is quick to follow. So inevitably, my skirt is now so high that he can easily see my red lace underwear.

I nervously start tugging at the hem of my top, wringing it in my hands, as Carlisle begins to examine my thigh. Sure enough, there's a bruise the size of Texas forming there. I can't help the small gasp escaping me when he touches the skin around it. Shit, I'm getting so flustered over this, and I can tell that Carlisle is starting to feel uncomfortable as well.

It doesn't take long to examine a simple bruise, and when he's done, he sits back, still with one hand on my thigh, and I take a deep breath to relax. Then I suddenly hear him gasp and I look up at his face. He's staring at me with wide eyes, but more specifically, he's staring at my chest.  _So much for relaxing._

I look down and see that my top-tugging has made it so that the neckline of my top has ridden down and has now revealed my right boob. I had of course decided to go bra-less this evening, since the only clean one I had was a sports bra.

In shock, I let go of my top, and it flings back, almost in place, the zipper cold on my skin. I look back up at Carlisle, and I notice just how close he is. His hand is still tightly clutching my thigh, and I'm sure that if I weren't already bruising, I would now.

I can tell he's just as flustered as I am. His breathing is heavy, and he's still looking at my chest.

A surge of bravery rushes through me, no doubt coming from my alcohol consumption. I put my hand on top of his, making sure he won't remove it from my thigh. Slowly, I move myself so my legs are on either side of his body. With me sitting on the bed, I have a slight height advantage, so when I look down from his face, I can't help but notice the bulge forming in his scrubs.

When I move, his gaze shifts back to my face, and I see his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows nervously. The adrenaline surges through my veins, and I throw all caution to the wind as I lower my head to kiss him. He gasps just before I brush my lips against his, and,  _oh man_ , the feeling of his soft lips...  _yum_...

When he doesn't pull away immediately, I take it as my cue to continue, and press my lips harder against his. My hands reach behind his head, and they bury themselves in the hair on the back of his neck. Suddenly, he responds to my forwardness, and his hands shift to my waist, pulling me closer to him. His lips are more forceful now, and I can feel them opening up and the tip of his tongue brushing against my open mouth. I eagerly respond to his gesture and thrust my tongue to meet his, and indulge in the feeling of them brushing against each other.

God, I can't believe this is happening. I'm actually making out with Doctor Carlisle Cullen! A part of me knows exactly how wrong this is, and is begging me to stop before I make an even bigger fool out of myself, while the other, the drunker part, is cheering me on like it's filled with high school cheerleaders, telling me to slut-on! There's also the tiny part that's telling me, "See, you don't need Edward! He can go fuck himself!"

Carlisle stands up and is now quite a bit taller than me, but I just lean back a little as he hunches over me. All thoughts evade me when he stops assaulting my mouth with his tongue and starts kissing down the slope of my neck. I busy myself with grasping his shoulders, working my hands inside his coat, and I try to push it down his arms. I want him naked, god damn it!

He lets go of me and shrugs off his coat, and I can hear the distant thud when his stethoscope falls to the ground. His hands fall back to my thighs, grasping them tightly, as his mouth descends further south. I'm not sure where he's going, but I don't really care, since the feeling of his tongue, licking my collarbone, is  _amazing_. Though I have to say, most of my thoughts are drawn down to his hands, which are  _so_  close to where I want them to be.

_Just a little bit up, please, move them just a couple of inches further!_

I shimmy farther down towards the edge of the bed, hoping that his hands will move farther up and play with my pussy, and I'm greeted with his raging erection between my legs. Too bad the scrubs and my panties are in the way…

One of his hands comes up to my chest, grabbing my breast, to which his hot mouth is now getting dangerously close, and I let out a loud moan of pleasure as I start grinding my pelvis against him.

All of a sudden, he pulls away from me, his eyes wide and breathing labored. I stare back at him, equally breathless, and all good sense starts shouting back at me as I realize what I have been doing; exactly what Kate has been warning me about! As everything sets in, I feel the heated blush, not only covering my cheeks, but also spreading on my chest. I close my eyes and mutter "shit" and hope he won't just go running away. Who am I kidding? He's a grown man; of course he won't run away and hide. Right?

"Bella..." It comes out with a rush of breath, like he's scared I'll jump him again. "I can't…"

I just shake my head, clenching my eyes so I won't open them and see the disgust in his face. I mean, how could he not be disgusted? I practically behaved like all the other sluts at UDub. I know he probably gets hit on every single day by mindless bimbos, but I'm sure he wasn't expecting little innocent Bella to attack him with no warning what so ever. Gosh, I feel like such an idiot.

"I'm sorry, Doctor Cullen, I don't know what came over me. Seriously, I'm not like this, usually. I hope..." I sigh and open my eyes to look at him. "I hope you can forgive me?"

I am slightly relieved to see that he's not totally disgusted by me, but I'm still not sure what to make of his expression.

He slowly nods at me, hopefully agreeing to forgive me, before bending down and picking up his white coat and stethoscope off the floor. When's upright again, he clears his throat. "I'm just going to find a nurse to put a brace on your ankle. You should come back in a week or so to have it checked out again. Have a good evening, Miss Swan." With that, he puts on his jacket and turns to leave the room.

Shit. He'll never want to see me again. I'll have to find a new doctor. It's so hard to find doctors like Carlisle, doctors who seem to really care about your welfare, who make the small talk, and just make you feel comfortable in an otherwise stuffy environment.

Sighing, I sit up on the bed and shift my skirt farther down on my hips and fix my top, so it isn't showing quite as much bust as before. I nervously run my fingers through my hair and then wipe them under my eyes and over my mouth, making sure my make-up hasn't gone all over the place. The nurse hopefully won't suspect anything.

I get my brace and hobble the few blocks between the hospital and my apartment, sure that the fresh air will do me some good. I'm feeling slightly cold, seeing as I left my jacket somewhere. When I get home, I notice that Kate is not here, despite the fact that it's almost six in the morning. She has to be up at noon if she's going to catch her flight…

Worrying about Kate is not one of my priorities right now, so I walk into my room, and the sight of my bed is probably the highlight of my day. I throw my leggings on the floor, quickly followed by my skirt and top. I pull on my night tank top and throw myself on the bed. Sighing with contentment, I slip under the covers and close my eyes. I try my damnedest not to think too much about the past few hours, but I just can't stop all my crazy thoughts surfacing.

Why can't I be a carefree co-ed, writing poetry and fluffy shit until I meet a charming Brit who will take me to see where Jane Austen grew up? Why do I have to come from a dysfunctional family who has probably fucked up my head in ways I don't even realize? Then, of course, there is the whole "the guy I like is probably fucking someone else, and I just molested my doctor, just because I'm too horny to function properly around hot men" thing.

I used to love school holidays. I used to look forward to seeing either Charlie or Renee and her family and spend quality time with them.

Now? Now I just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.


	8. The Bella Ella and Awkward Edward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last on SiK: Drunk and confused, Bella ends up in the ER after a fall down a flight of stairs. Don't worry, she only got a few bruises, nothing too serious. But! It's time to meet the hot doctor, Dr. Carlisle Cullen! He takes good care of our girl and makes her feel all fuzzy and warm inside. And since she's already intoxicated, she makes the smart decision to lock lips with her doctor, who responds positively at first, but withdraws at last, and then it's just awkward. Don't drink and drive (or kiss your hot doctor), people!

**_Two days later_ **

Dry-spells make people slutty. That must be a universally acknowledged fact, right? The longer you go without getting laid, the more you want it. People love to fuck, so when there's not much fucking going on, girls tend to slut up, dressing in short skirts that should more appropriately be called belts, and wearing tight tops, flaunting cleavages and way too much skin. This behavior is generally accompanied by heavy drinking, so said girls won't feel too guilty about behaving in less than desirable way.

See, this is why I want a boyfriend. It's not just that I want someone to cuddle with, but it's also the fact that I'm one of those people who slut up. I  _like_  sex. I thoroughly  _enjoy_ sex. Unfortunately, I haven't been  _having_  that much sex since I broke up with Emmett, and none at all after he bailed on our arrangement. I'm almost certain that if I'd had sex with someone in the past few weeks or months, I wouldn't have been so horny last week, and I wouldn't have tried to jump my doctor's bones.

"Bella, can you come here for a moment?" My mother's voice trails from the kitchen. That is  _not_  a good thing. Not wanting to see the house burn down, I immediately scramble to stand up from my bed, disregarding my Farmville crops, and hastily limp into the kitchen.

"What is it?" I ask as I enter the room, only to see Renee battling the oven door.

"It's this stupid door, it won't close!" she growls in irritation, throwing a dish towel at the stove. I jump to save it from the gas flames, but my darn ankle brace gets in the way, so I'm not fast enough to prevent the dish towel from catching fire. Thankfully, it doesn't take much to put it out.

"Mom!" I yell, not at all happy with her at the moment. "What were you thinking?"

Renee has the decency to look a bit embarrassed by what she did, but not enough to stop staring at the stove like it was its fault. I roll my eyes at her and turn towards the oven to see what's wrong.

"Why is the oven pan turned like this?" I ask, pointing to the pan, which is quite obviously protruding from the oven.

"Oh, I didn't think it mattered which way it turned," she says, confused.

"Well, yeah, it does. But how did it get turned in the first place?" I ask while I reach for the oven mitts, so I can turn it.

"Well, I took it out to check how the turkey was doing," she points out, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I sigh. "I thought we agreed that I was in charge of the cooking this year." When I'm sure the pan is in correctly, I quickly look to check if the turkey is okay. It still has a long way to go, but everything seems to be in order.

"Of course we agreed," she scoffs. "I just wanted to make sure everything was going smoothly." She grabs a dirty washcloth and starts rubbing off imaginary dirt from her fingers. That is one reason why I don't like the idea of my mom touching my food. Her sense of hygiene in the kitchen is almost nonexistent. She wipes her hands with dirty dish towels, no matter what she or it has been touching. I, however, tend to be rather anal about kitchen hygiene, constantly washing my hands between everything I do, and always making sure I have something clean to dry my hands with.

Looking at my mom, I almost pity her. I know she wants to feel important, and that she wants to be able to take care of me, but we both know that she can't make up for the past. Though I do love that she's at least trying to be a better mother, and there is hope for Jamie not being as messed up as I am when she grows up.

My baby sister comes running into the kitchen, effectively pulling me from my thoughts. Her enthusiasm makes me smile, and I forget about what I had been thinking.

"Bella Ella!" she shouts as she tackles my legs. "Have you saw Nemo? My daddy gived me a Nemo movie for my birthday, and I bringed it with me, so you can watch it with me if you want!" she says, pulling at my hands to move me with her to the living room. I don't mind it much; Disney movies can hardly be called torture, especially one where there is actually no romance going on.

"Sure, I'll watch it with you," I answer, laughing at her enthusiasm.

She sits me down on the sofa in front of the TV, hands me the remote, and crawls into my lap, forcing me to accept her want for me to be with her. I start the movie, and when I feel her relax in my arms, I subtly sneak a peek at her, admiring her innocent and placid smile.

The wonderful, clear colors of the coral reef appear on the screen, and my sister is captivated by it right from the start. I turn my gaze towards the TV and find myself relaxing as well. I chuckle at the comfortable banter of Marlin and Coral, and even though I try to act all tough and comforting with Jamie, my heart still clenches when Marlin can't find his mate.

Soon, I forget myself in the adventures of Marlin and Dory, quietly mouthing the epic lines, such as "I shall call him Squishy, and he shall be mine, and he shall be  _my_  Squishy," and "Fish are friends, not food!"

It's nice, laughing with my sister—and sometimes my parents—at the silly parts. I find myself quite liking playing the part of the wiser, older sister, and wishing to be able to spend more time with Jamie.

At the end of the movie, Jamie claps and asks if we can watch it again.

"I'm sorry, Jamie, but I have to check on the turkey, otherwise we might have no food!" I explain to her.

"Oooh, I can come with you?" she asks, jumping beside me as I stand up.

I laugh. "Sure, but you have to promise me not to go too close to the oven. It's very, very hot, so it's only for adults."

"I promise," she swears, her eyes big and convincing. I know that she's careful—she's perfectly aware that some things are only for adults, and that she won't be an adult for some time.

"Alright." I gently take her hand, leading her to the kitchen. "You stay here while I check the bird," I implore, leaving her standing a couple feet away from the oven.

I carefully pull the oven pan out and check the meat thermometer. Sticking the pan back into the oven, I turn to face Jamie. "Well, I think we're ready to start preparing supper," I say cheerfully, knowing that she will be excited at the prospect of getting to help me.

She doesn't disappoint, and starts jumping and clapping in excitement. Together we gather the rest of the ingredients for the meal, boil potatoes and get cranberries to make the sauce. We have a delightful time in the kitchen; she diligently helps me, We are occasionally joined by our mother, but most of the time I am able to keep Renee away from the food by getting her to help with small tasks such as setting the table. My sister is a much better assistant than my mother; it's much easier to get her to do things the _right_  way.

An hour later, dinner is ready, and we sit together around the overly decorated table. Yeah, my mom goes all out on her projects. Jamie fidgets in her high chair, impatient to start eating. Phil tries to calm her down.

"Sweetie, remember? It's Thanksgiving, so we have to give thanks first, before we start eating," he reminds her. "Do you want to go first?"

Jamie scrunches her nose, looking intently at her dish, apparently thinking about what to give thanks for. Suddenly she looks up. "Oh, I know! I give thanks to Bella Ella, the bestest sister in the whole wide world, because she letted me to help with supper!"

My heart melts a little as I look at her excited face. If only things would be as simple as they are in the world of this four year old, everything would be great. I smile at her and playfully squeeze her hand as a thank you.

Mom and Phil both "aww" over her answer, and then Phil gives his thanks. "I am thankful for my beautiful girls," he begins, catching my eye and winking, making sure I know that I'm included. "And I'm thankful for my health, a good job, and this mouthwatering meal in front of us, compliments of Bella," he ends, but adds, "And Jamie, of course," after a rather insulted sounding "hmpf" from her.

Renee is still smiling when it's her turn. "I am thankful for my wonderful husband, who stays around even though I know I'm a handful," she says as she squeezes his hand, "and my little angel, Jamie, who makes everything better," she beams at her across the table, "and my beautiful Bella, who, despite that she has proven time and time again that she can take care of herself, still lets her family come around and try and ruin dinner every now and then," she ends, now squeezing my hand.

This whole ordeal is making me quite emotional, and I'm scared for a second that I might not be able to get a word out without blubbering, but I try my best. I take a deep breath before starting, "I am thankful for…" I pause.  _I have no idea for what I'm thankful_. School's been a bitch lately, I have zero romantic prospects, or more like a negative two, my…

God, sometimes I realize just how self-centered I am. My family, the family I was sure didn't really care for me, flew across the country, just so I wouldn't be alone this Thanksgiving. Right now I feel really undeserving of their generosity and love, and with a new found resolution, I straighten in my chair and begin again.

"I am thankful for my family, and the realization that I am not alone and will always have you guys to rely on."

I feel my mom squeeze my hand once again, and the smile on her face makes me think that maybe she was more aware of my self-pity than I thought.

We all sit there for a moment, until Jamie finally pipes up, "Can we eat now?"

Looking at my mom and Phil for confirmation, I see that they are both staring at me to give the permission.

"What?" I ask, unsure how to take this. I'm not the head of the family; it's not my decision.

"You cooked, it's your meal, dear," mom points out.

"Oh. Well… I can't carve…" I say half-awkwardly. We all stare at the overstuffed bird like it was the only thing preventing us from nourishment. "Can you do it, Phil?" I ask, hoping that someone could make a move so we could start eating.

With a sigh, Phil stands up, picks up the carving knife, and stares at the turkey. Slowly, he pokes the bird with the fork like thing and starts cutting.

I never thought it would be this difficult to watch someone carve a bird. But on top of all the other pathetic emotions running through me today, my eyes start stinging at the sight of someone else doing the job. Someone aside from Charlie. It had always been his job to cut the meat, never mind Renee's new husband, who, oddly enough, always seemed perfectly happy to let my dad do the job.

They say the first year after a loved one's passing is the hardest, and I for one hope it's only that one year. It has been rough, these past eight months, and with Christmas looming ahead, it can't be over soon enough.

 _Stay strong,_  I remind myself. I will be strong, if only to show that I can survive being on my own. I know now that if all else fails, I still have my little family, even though they reside on the other side of the country. I am not going to let myself be weak and whiny about boys, there are bigger problems in this world, and I am over all the self-made drama.

With my head held high, I accept the slice of meat I'm offered and start piling my dish with delicious food. My cooking proves to be successful as yummy noises and gentle moans fill the living room. The whole atmosphere makes me smile, and I have to admit that I feel a bit proud of myself.

* * *

 

_**Two days later** _

"Why do you have this plastic thingy on your foot, Bella Ella?" Jamie asks me as she inspects the blue ankle brace. We are huddled together in Alice's bed, preparing for her bedtime story.

At first I am a bit stumped, not knowing the proper way to explain to a four year old that I was so drunk that I didn't know what I was doing and ended up falling down a flight of stairs.

"Um, well…" I begin as I think out my response. "I was very clumsy and fell down a staircase the night before you guys came to visit," I try, hoping she won't ask too many questions.

"Oh," she responds, and for a moment she looks pensive. She then suddenly perks up and crawls excitedly to where I am resting against the headboard. "Are you going to tell me a story now?" she asks as she settles in beneath the covers.

"If you're going to sit still and listen," I say, laughing at her. She has always been a bit of a butterfly, always fluttering around the room. I bet she and Alice would be the best of friends, if they ever got to know each other.

Finally she settles in, resting her head against my chest and clutching my waist.

For this brief moment before I start my storytelling, I feel so grateful that she has so easily accepted me as her family, as a loved one, despite how seldom we have actually been around each other. Throughout this whole visit, she has managed to lift my spirit and make me forget all about my self-created worries. It's refreshing, this feeling of cheerfulness and joy.

I sigh as she finally stops moving, and I start the story of  _Beauty and the Beast_. "Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, there lived a merchant, who had three daughters and three sons. All his daughters were very beautiful, but the youngest one was the fairest of them all. Not only was she beautiful, but she was smart and very kind…"

Jamie is enthralled by my storytelling, asking questions upon questions, and daring my knowledge of the story. After I finish with the usual "and they lived happily ever after" spiel, she remains quiet, seemingly staring into nothing. I sit with her for a few moments, allowing her to finish her thought, before she pipes up, "I don't think they will be happily ever after."

"Why not?" I ask, wondering how she came to that conclusion.

"Because Bella was kind and smart, but the Beast was not kind, and I don't think Bella would want to be with someone not kind," she explains. I find it adorable how she confuses Belle's name with mine.

"But he wasn't mean, remember?" I point out. "He was mean and frightful at first, when he thought the merchant was stealing his roses, but then he saw how kind Belle was despite how he treated her and how ugly he was. Belle herself knew that he was kinder and smarter than he said he was. Looks and appearances aren't always the whole story, you know. The beast looked like he was an ugly, mean person, but Belle didn't know that he was just under a spell. He was actually the handsome prince.

Jamie remained quiet for a couple of minutes while processing this. "Are ugly people always just friends?" she finally asks.

I laugh at her deduction. "No, not always," I answer.

"But Bella was only friends with the Beast when he was ugly, and then loved him when he was prince," she reasons.

"No, see, when Belle saw how kind the Beast was, almost at the beginning of her stay, she started to love him as a friend. Then later, when she thought he was dying, that's when she knew that she loved him as something more. Like mom loves your dad. It wasn't until after she wanted to marry him that he became the handsome prince. And see how Belle's sisters -– who were both very beautiful but very mean -– ended up with lousy husbands and very unhappy. It just means that being pretty isn't everything; people need to be nice, too."

Once again Jamie is seemingly thinking about my explanation, and finally she seems happy with the answer. "Alright," she sings, before snuggling further into my chest, hugging me. I tighten my embrace. "Are you ready to go to bed?" I ask.

"I don't want to leave tomorrow," she whispers into my shirt.

"I know, sweetie," I mumble back. "I don't want you to leave either."

A few minutes later, Jamie is sound asleep, and I manage to sneak out from under her without stirring her awake. As I walk out of the room, I'm conflicted by the feeling of sadness that my family is leaving, and the relief that my friends are coming back and real life will continue again.

* * *

 

**_Two days later_ **

Although I was sad to say goodbye to Renee, Phil, and Jamie yesterday, I am really glad that Kate and Alice are returning. I haven't known Alice for very long, but I've really missed her for the few days she's been away. She radiates happiness and that's exactly what I need right now.

Kate and Alice are flying in within twenty minutes of each other, so I'm picking them both up at the airport. I don't have to wait for long for Kate to show up at the gate, and we do this exaggerated movie thing where we run –- or in my case, limp -– towards each other in fake slow motion, hands spread wide, then end up clashing forcefully when we reach each other.

Kate and I sit down again to wait for Alice. She starts animatedly telling me about her Thanksgiving experience. She's very loud, as usual, when she describes this very exciting (in her opinion) game of football she played with her brothers and their friends. Then she goes into detail of how hot some those friends looked. I try not to cringe too much in her presence, but I can't help but feel a little embarrassed when I notice a couple of heads turn at Kate's appreciation of the male physique.

Suddenly, we are interrupted by a loud shriek coming from the arrival gate. We look up, and there is Alice, running towards us. We hurriedly stand up and rush to greet her, matching her shrieks - mine more sarcastic than Kate's. While hugging her, I notice that Edward is standing behind her, staring at us with wide eyes. I'm relieved to find out that I don't really feel anything about his unexpected appearance. I'm not nervous. I'm not flushed. I'm not resentful. There's a wonderful feeling of nothingness towards him, like he was just another Joe.

I haven't seen Edward around much since Halloween, and whenever I did, I usually turned and went the other way. There was a great deal of denial going on in my head, and even though I felt all flustered at first whenever I thought about him, I ignored it and told myself that he was totally off limits. It was mostly so I could preserve what little of my dignity I had left.

I turn back to the girls and see that Kate has also spotted Edward. She looks back at Alice and ducks her head a little, then whispers, "Why is Edward staring at us like we're aliens or something? I mean, I know we're freaks, but he should be used to  _your_  crazy behavior by now, right?"

Alright, so I never told Kate what — or rather  _who —_ caused my breakdown at Halloween, and somehow I managed to convince her that I was totally over him when she went away for Thanksgiving. Which I am, albeit a little later than previously stated.

Alice just smiles and looks back at Edward while she almost sings, "Oh, no reason." She then grabs our hands and drags us over to him.

"Kate, Bella, this is my brother, Edward Masen. Edward, this is Katelyn Connors and Isabella Swan."

She winks at her brother at the end of the introduction, and I'm immediately reminded of the night at the club, when I refused to tell him my name. I cringe at the thought of how immature I acted, and my cheeks start burning. I also have the strange urge to hiss at Alice and say something that will inevitably sound high school-ish. But I guess the game is up, so I just do my best and act my age; I reach out my hand to shake his after he lets go of Kate's hand.

"Hello again," I say with as warm a smile as I can muster, trying to be civilized.

At first he looks like he just can't believe his eyes, but then he smirks.

"Told you I would find out your name." He winks.

"Took you long enough. What has it been, three months?" I shoot back. I'm amazed how easy it is for me to banter with him, but then again, it might just be because I'm not glorifying him in my mind anymore. "I would have thought if you really wanted to know it, you would have found out sooner. I've only been  _living_  with  _your sister_  for two months…" Even though I enjoy seeing him squirm slightly, I'm still hit by the fact that it took him  _that_  long to find out my name. It has clearly not been one of his priorities.  _Meh_.

"Who's to say I haven't known it for a while?" he replies after a slight pause.

"Oh puh-lease," Alice pipes in. "You  _just_  found out her name, right this moment!"

I can't help it. I gloat at the fact that I'm right.

Looking back at Alice, I notice she's looking back and forth between us, like she's waiting for something magical to happen. I'm slightly confused, but I decide not to mention it, at least not for the time being.

Alice shrugs, a bit irritably, and gives up waiting for whatever it is she was waiting for, and turns towards Edward. "You've got a ride home, right?"

"Yeah, he'll be here any minute," he says, shrugging.

"Alright, I'll see you later then." She leans in to hug him, before turning back to us, smiling brightly.

"Okay, girls, let's go home."

I don't even look back at him when the girls and I turn to leave. I don't want to. I feel relieved that I don't want to.

* * *

 

**_A week and a half later_ **

After Thanksgiving, everything has kind of fallen into the normal routine again. Well, sort off. I haven't had the guts to tell the girls about what happened with Carlisle, though I had to explain why I had a brace on my leg, and why I had to go back to the hospital the following Tuesday and again yesterday to have it removed. Needless to say, Dr. Cullen did not attend the brace removal.

Unfortunately, they have noticed that something is not right with me. They have asked thousands of questions, everything from a giggled "Did you pee your pants in public?" to a more timid "Did you get assaulted " Every single one of them was embarrassing enough for me to blush and respond with various forms of "no." Now, two weeks later, the questions have somewhat diminished, but still, it comes up every now and again.

Edward has frequented our apartment quite a lot recently. It's almost like every time I turn around, there he is! And I would be okay with that, if it weren't for the awkward silences. Awkward silences make me uncomfortable. Somehow, the girls think of a million other things to do when he comes over, so mostly we end up being the only two people in the room. Whether we're watching TV or eating dinner, it doesn't matter, they always leave us alone. Most of the time we end up staring blankly into space, trying to think up something to say. Sometimes, it is as if he's just about to say something, but instead he lets out a frustrated sigh. To be frank, I haven't been in the mood to talk to anyone, let alone him, so even though he manages to say something, I usually respond with bitchy answers.

Like the other day, he was sitting in our living room when I got home from a study group meeting, just chatting with Jasper and Alice. When I sat down to join them, he was going on and on about how busy he was at school these days. I wasn't really listening to what he was saying, but at some point he turned to me like he was expecting me to feel sorry for the poor pre-med. I just snapped and asked him why he's always coming over to our place if he's  _that_  busy? Well, that shut him up real quick.

I guess a lot of the time Alice has been inviting him over. The reason I think that is because every time he comes over, she gives me this devilish smile, like he's my personal torture device. It begins with her and Kate being all happy and chatty, and then suddenly they both remember some previous engagements they just can't skip out on, so they leave, and the silence sets on.

It's absolutely horrible. I  _so_  want to be charming and engaging. I want to have interesting conversations with him and laugh with him and be friendly, but I just can't. I've reverted into my old socially retarded shell, no matter if the girls are around or not. I'm starting to have trouble communicating with  _anyone_  these days. And now I must be scaring him away. Good riddance, probably.

I don't feel as attracted to Edward anymore. In my mind, the only reason I was attracted to Edward in the first place was because I desperately wanted a boyfriend. The same way I wanted Carlisle in my bed just because I wanted  _someone_  in my bed. Anyone would have sufficed. So after realizing this, I've decided to be celibate. I simply refuse to be one of those desperate girls who do just about anything to get either a boyfriend or a lay. My new resolution is: fewer parties with obscene amounts of alcohol consumption, no dressing slutty, and absolutely  _no_ throwing myself at guys who aren't right for me. Also, no being hurt by guys who have never really done anything that should cause such emotions.

Today, like most other days, is a moody day. There is really no cause for them anymore; I'm just permanently moody. After getting home from my first final exam, I go straight for the couch in the living room. Flopping down on it, gently flinging my book bag into the seat next to me, I just kind of sit and stare into nothingness. Neither Kate nor Alice is home at the moment, for which I'm ever so grateful. I like these short moments of silence, where I can just sit by myself and reflect on my problems in peace. Of course I get tired of that eventually, but for the moment I'm quite content.

But, alas, I hear Alice coming up the stairs. Even though I can't hear what she's saying, it's definitely her squeaky voice that is coming closer and closer to the front door.

Her keys rattle against the wood as she turns them and opens the door, still talking a mile a minute. I expect Kate to follow her inside, but to my surprise, it's actually Edward trailing after her. Though I really shouldn't be surprised. It's been, what, four days since I had the honor of being a social retard in his presence? I think I'm due for another breathtaking performance.

Alice goes quiet the instant she sees me. And there's that horrible smile of hers.

"Oh, Edward, I have to put my books away, and I really need a shower. Do you mind staying here while I wash up? I'll be real quick, I promise!" She winks at him, and he nods, and frankly, looks kind of nervous, which is weird, because he usually looks all calm and collected.  _Great._  I've definitely put him off with my engaging personality. And I'd just like to point out that I know for a fact that Alice had a shower this morning, so this is definitely one of her schemes.

After Alice disappears, Edwards walks over to the couch where I'm sitting and sinks into the seat next to me. He reaches for the remote. "Do you mind if I turn on the TV?" he asks.

I smile awkwardly at him and shake my head. Drawing my feet up to rest in front of me, I wrap my arms around them, resting my chin on my knees. He turns on the TV and a re-run of Friends is on.

I don't notice much of what is going on in the episode, since I'm too busy trying to think of possible ways to save the image Edward has of me. Even though I have somehow managed to put him—and all other men, really—behind me, I still don't want him to see me as some crazy girl who's so socially awkward, she runs away at the mere sight of him.

When the episode ends and the tune begins, Edward turns a little towards me and drags his hand through his hair. He clears his throat and then turns fully towards me, dragging one leg up on the couch while the other nervously bounces on the floor.

"Listen, Bella, um... I was wondering..." he begins, but seems to change his mind. "I don't know, this is stupid." He huffs and looks down at his hands, which are nervously twisting together. Sighing again, he looks back up at me, and I turn fully towards him, giving him all my attention. His mood is much more serious now, and I'm intrigued.

"Bella, you wanna have dinner with me?"

I blink.

_What?_

He wants to go out with  _me_? Despite the past two weeks of awkwardness, he wants to spend an evening with me and only me. Besides, what happened to the girl in my bedroom, or the mysterious brunette? According to Alice, he's still very much obsessed with her.

Shocked, I let out a breath and try my best to smile. I have to say that I've been quite out of practice lately.

"Sure."

 _Wait, what?_  I swear that I was intending to shoot him down. Did I not just pledge to not get involved with guys? Is he not one of the reasons why I have been throwing a pity-party for one these past few weeks?

Edward relaxes and smiles at me. He has a unique, wonderful smile; one corner of his mouth turns up further than the other. A crooked smile, if you must.

"Great. Are you free tomorrow night? Eight-ish?"

I nod and tersely smile back. It's too late to deny him now. "Sounds great."

"Great. I'll pick you up here then?"

"Sounds good."

Gosh, I'm such a good conversationalist. This dialogue is simply too perfect, right? Anyway, I sit back and try to relax, turning the conversation over and over again in my head and wondering where I decided it would be a good idea to accept him. There is silence again, and we both awkwardly turn slightly towards the TV again, another episode of Friends is beginning.

Alice comes back, her hair noticeably dry, and she takes one look at us and looks absolutely ecstatic.

"Finally!" she exclaims, throwing her hands in the air as she sinks down into the recliner.

I just look at her, not sure what she's talking about. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Edward blushing slightly. Confused, I look between the two of them, but Edward just shakes his head and Alice purses her lips, obviously trying to keep something a secret.

Suddenly, I get a weird feeling in my stomach, something I can't really place, and I just need to get out of here and away from this situation. I quickly stand up, before facing Edward.

"Um, I guess I'll just do homework... or something..." I look at Edward and smile slightly. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

He smiles back and nods. "Yeah."


	9. The Other Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on SiK: Thanksgiving time in Seattle, and Renee, Phil, and Jamie come over to celebrate it with Bella. Jamie is an adorable 5-year-old who asks a lot of questions and adores her older sister. And at the end of the holidays, Bella and Edward officially meet for the first time. Turns out he's not the smooth womanizer she thought he was. And Bella and Edward don't exactly become the best of friends. But that doesn't stop Edward from asking her out, and Bella awkwardly accepting.

**_The next day_ **

God, what have I done? I don't want to date Edward. He is hot and charming and all, but still. There are just so many things that are telling me I'd better stay away. For instance, there's the whole thing about me being into him, and then not being into him, and kinda being into someone else, and being totally insecure about where I stand with either of them. Then there's Edward's history with women. I don't want someone who can't be monogamous, and I still don't know what the deal is with the girl from the party, or the brunette he's supposedly obsessed with. At times I wonder if they are the same girl.

I have been dying to ask Alice about what's been happening with his personal life since he dumped the harem, but I don't want to be nosy.

Alice just loves the fact that I'm going out with her brother. She woke me up bright and early this morning, claiming that we needed to have our nails done. And when I say "bright and early," I mean somewhere around eleven a.m.. The thing is, although she did bring coffee with her, she woke me up! Ugh, even when she's extremely irritating, she manages to be lovable. It's so annoying!

So anyway, I went with her to have my nails done and only argued a little when they started to do my toenails. I tried to ask Alice more about her "Finally" comment, but she just smiled and said she promised Edward she wouldn't say.

 _Damn sibling loyalty_.

Alice tried to convince me that I needed to go shopping, but I actively refused, saying that I already had a perfectly good dress that would do fine for the occasion. After a long and heated argument, she finally gave in, although not without asking to see the dress first (she approved) and telling me exactly how to do my make-up and hair. I was starting to think she might have something riding on this little date of ours.

I look up at the clock and see it is seven forty-five now. I'm waiting in the living room, trying to ignore that exuberant little thing who's constantly asking me questions like she's preparing me for a test. Shit, if I wasn't nervous already, I would definitely be after that ordeal. Though I'm ready to kill her right now, I have to be grateful for her advice. I managed to stop her from revealing too much information about her brother because I wanted him to tell me about these things himself—god knows that we need something to fill the silences—but my appearance, aside from my dress, is all thanks to Alice, and, for the first time in a while, I feel beautiful.

My dress is a knee length, gray silk-blend dress with a cinched waist. It's a little formal, but Alice has assured me that it is perfect for the place he's taking me to. My shoes are a pair of simple gray two inch ankle boots, which I love, because despite being heels, they are really easy to walk in. My hair has been pinned and pulled in a loose ponytail which falls over my left shoulder, only a few straight locks of hair framing my face on either side. I have to say, Alice is a miracle worker.

There's a knock on the door, and suddenly I can't think anymore.

The thing is, I'm nothing if not a walking contradiction. I love that I'm dressed up, and I feel really pretty. I'm somewhat excited that I'm going out with Edward, but I'm just convinced that this is going to be a failure. I'm so confused by my own feelings, since I don't really want to go on this date, but I kind of do, and I'm just too much of a wuss to withdraw my acceptance.  _Why did I say yes again_?

It's just a date. He will be a flirtatious bastard, and that's that. It's better just to get this over with, right?

I make my way to the front door when Alice calls out to me, and I'm shocked when I finally see Edward. I try my best not to show it, but I'm not sure I'm succeeding. He is, by far, the most delicious being I have ever seen! He's dressed in charcoal tweed pants and a midnight blue v-neck sweater over a white shirt, making him look older and more mature and really bringing out the apple green of his eyes and his unique hair color. He is practically oozing masculinity, and he's pulling off this look  _way_  better than Brad Pitt ever could!

As I try my best not to drool all over him, I don't fail to notice that he's checking  _me_  out. The smirk spreading across his face brings a satisfying feeling of pride, along with a slight burning in my cheeks. One of these days I'm going to get rid of my damn blushing, but today isn't that day.

"So... Where are we going?" I ask after a rather pregnant pause, following the eye overload.

His eyes snap up to my face (from my boobs, hell yeah!) and he smirks again.

"Oh, I'm not telling. It's a surprise," he says, patting the black jacket he's holding like it is hiding a secret.

I scoff, and mumble a sarcastic "Great!"

"What?" He steps closer and leans his head towards me, which makes me slightly apprehensive.

"Nothing. Just with my luck we're going out for pineapple pizza and ice skating or some shit," I shoot at him, irritated that he can make me nervous like this, and that he doesn't want to tell me what we will be doing.

"What's wrong with pineapple pizza?" He smirks, like he's knowingly trying to agitate me.

_Is that an affirmative on the pizza?_

"Nothing, just I'm allergic to pineapple." Okay, I'm not, but whenever I say I don't like it, everyone makes a big deal out of it.

"Well then, for your information, there will neither be pizza nor ice skating tonight," he says, acting super polite and bowing for me.

"Then what are we doing?" I ask, arching an eyebrow, or at least attempting to.

He laughs. "I'm still not telling! Now, are you ready to go?" he asks.

"Yes," I huff, already extremely irritated by him. I hate the unknown. "Just let me get my coat."

I turn and walk into Kate's room, since "my coat" is not actually  _my_  coat. I walk with it back to the front door, and when I make an attempt to put it on, Edward takes it from me and helps me into it. His hand gently brushes against my neck as he pushes my hair from under the coat. I'm not gonna lie; I get goose bumps.

Let's keep score:  _helping me with my coat—_ _one Dreamy Point._

He offers me his arm as we make our way downstairs to the parking lot and opens every door for me on the way, including the door to his shiny silver Volvo.

 _Arm-offering and door-holding—_ _three Dreamy Points._ Though the Volvo does make my gay-dar vibrate slightly.

As he turns on the car, classical music gently breezes through the sound system, and I am extremely relieved when he calmly fixes his iPod to a more indie/alternative playlist. Not that I don't like classical music, but I would rather leave that for a later date. Liking classical music is way too embarrassing for a first date conversation, unless you're over the age of forty-five.

" _So pretty, so smart, such a waste of a young heart…"_

The song playing is mellow, calming and makes me relax into my seat. There is something about this song which bothers me. Not the lyrics, but just that I can't place it. I know I've heard it before, and I feel like I know what's coming, but I have no idea what song it is. When the chorus starts, I finally recognize it. I can't help but smile, the disturbing feeling resolved, and I let the music flow around me.

"You know Anya Marina?" Edward's voice startles me and I turn to look at him. He's smiling, and I detect some humor playing in his eyes.

"Um… no, who's she?"

"The singer, Anya Marina. You were humming along. I just assumed you knew her."

"Oh, so she sings this song?" He nods, and I fall back into my seat, looking out the front window. "I don't even know what the song is called, I've just heard it on TV a couple of times and I really like it. I think it was in some movie or something." I shrug, not wanting to reveal exactly how much the song moves me.

"Satellite Heart."

"What?" I'm confused about Edward's seemingly random comment, until I finally figure it out. "Oh, is that the name?"

"Yeah. I think it's in that new vampire movie. I just heard one of her songs on a TV show a while ago, and I really liked the sound of her voice. I only have one or two of her songs, though." He was starting to get nervous while explaining this. It was almost like he was embarrassed.

"Yeah, her voice is pretty unique," I offer, smiling at him. I wish he would relax a little. Maybe then this built-up energy around us would dissipate.

His hands wring around the steering wheel and he takes a few breaths, like he's just about to say something but backs out at the last moment. His nervous energy makes me a little giddy, and I hurriedly turn my face towards my window so he won't see the smile fighting to break out.

The song is just about to finish when he finally breaks the silence.

"So, what kind of music do you like?"

I look at him again, wondering where to begin. Really, this is probably one of the most difficult questions for me to answer. Anything to do with favorites is like diving into the most philosophical question for me, because I seriously can't make up my mind on those subjects. One day I'll swear that I listen to nothing but Jason Mraz and my favorite movie is  _The Boy in the Striped Pajamas_ , but then the next day I'm head over heels in love with Austen's  _Emma_  and listening to Metallica.

"Um, anything, really. It all depends on my mood, I guess," I start lamely, staring straight ahead and nervously scratching the sides of my thumbs. "I mean, yeah, I've been listening a lot to The Veronicas lately, and Emiliana Torrini. Have you heard of her?" I look back at him, hoping that he's up for a conversation.

"No, who's she? Sounds Italian…" His hands have relaxed on the wheel and he lets them fall down to his lap, his right hand barely grazing the bottom.

I sit back and look forward at the road again as we cross the Aurora bridge, a little excited that I get to introduce him to Emiliana. "No-well, she's actually from Iceland, but her parents were Italian, I think. At least her father was. But yeah, she sings in English most of the time, and she has this awesome voice, really mellow and unique…" I trail off, trying to remember more things about her. "Oh, and she sang the end credit song in The Two Towers movie, you know,  _Lord of the Rings_? It's called 'Gollum's Song' and it is _amazing_. If you like this Anya Mary girl, you're going to like Emiliana, I'm sure." I look back at him, and I'm pleased to see that he's smiling.

"Sounds good. Maybe I can get some music from you later?" he asks, winking at me.

I'm momentarily stunned by his wink, but I'm quick to regain my posture. "Yeah, but only if I get that Anya girl from you." I wink back at him and point at the car stereo, as if Anya herself were in there.

Edward laughs, and  _man_ _,_  it's good to hear him laugh. I'm starting to feel a bit more comfortable around him, like we're becoming friends. Like we can actually hang out if we just get past this awkwardness.

A sound of a gate opening and closing comes through the sound system. At first I'm confused, but when the tell-tale beeping of a watch sounds and Andy Samberg's deep voice starts rap-singing, I can't help but laugh.

"You have MotherLover on your iPod?" I ask, giggling at his embarrassed expression.

He shrugs and moves to change the track, but I swat his hand away and start singing along. " _She'll be so disappointed! Damn I forgot it, too. This could have been avoided, what the hell are we gonna do_?" I sing, not caring that I'm doing both Andy's and Justin's lines. Edward looks as though I should be put in an asylum.

He's quick to jump in, though, singing Justin's part: " _My mom's been so forgone, ever since my daddy left, no one to hold her tight, life has put her to the test_." I jump in for Andy's backup vocals, and while continuing with his part, Edward just shakes his head at me.

We continue like this throughout the song, thoroughly enounciating all the " _fucks"_ and " _motherlovers_ ," and putting great emphasis on " _if doing it is wrong, I don't wanna be right_!"

When the song starts to slow down in the end, I turn towards him and say with Andy in total seriousness, " _I_ _t would be my honor, to be your new stepfather!"_  and he's quick to sing it back with Justin-esque song frills. And  _my_ , Edward sure can sing!

His singing voice is unlike anything I've ever heard. It's all man and baritone but with a slight edge to it. Every single time he pronounces the word "fuck," a flash of us doing exactly that crosses my mind, and it's all I can do not jumping his bones right then and there.

When the song is over, the music turns over to Muse's  _Hysteria_ , a far cry from the humorous song from SNL. For the first time ever, I'm actually mad at this song. Just as things had become comfortable between Edward and me, this fucking song has to rip my mind away from his company and turn it towards sex. And not just sex, but the first time I had sex. The memory is not all together unpleasant, but it's not something I want to think about on my first date with Edward.

I couldn't be more relieved to find that the car has stopped and the music is turned off before we got too far into the song. Looking out the window, I don't recognize the neighborhood and realize I didn't notice where we left the Aurora. I open the car door and stand up, unconsciously smoothing down my dress. As I close the door, I notice Edward slowing down in front of the car. He looks a bit disappointed, but still approaches me and offers me his arm before we start walking to a large gray brick building.

The whole atmosphere reminds me of a creepy looking alley. For a second I entertain the idea that he has taken me here to kill me and do kinky stuff to my body, but I'm quick to shoot down that idea. Edward is definitely not the alleyway murdering type. No, I'm sure he would rather be the basement killing type so he could study the cadavers in the privacy of his own home -– for medical purposes, of course.

These crazy ideas of mine make me chuckle as I shudder at the mental imagery. Sometimes I'm amazed by my own thought process.

Edward leads me towards the buildings and into an alleyway. I damn well hope he's the basement type, or I'm pretty sure this is the end of me.

There's a brown wooden door above a single step, reminding me of a secret backdoor entrance. Maybe he's taking me to a meeting with his secret society, like the freemasonry or something. Except I thought there were no women allowed to the freemasonry. Well, it could be some other cult meeting…

He knocks three times on the door, and the longer we wait, the more ridiculous stories are concocted by my mind. Thoughts of  _Rosemary's Baby_  and secret food clubs mix together and suddenly I think of food on naked bodies.

I shake my head, willing these crazy ideas to be quiet.

Just as Edward is about to say something to me, the door opens and a beef of a man is standing in the doorway dressed in a plain black t-shirt, and black slacks. The shades hiding his eyes remind me of  _Men in Black_ , and for a second, I'm hoping we're going into a secret lair of a top secret agency, possibly guarding strange aliens.

"What?" the man grunts. I observe his buzz cut hair, seeing what appears like a tattoo beneath the hair. I can't make out the picture, but there are thin black lines criss-crossing over the crown of his head.

Edward produces a card from his wallet and hands it to the Bouncer-dude. The big guy looks at it for a few moments, grunts again, and then hands it back to Edward.

"Come on in, then," he offers, stepping aside, allowing us to pass. Edward grabs my hand and pulls me in with him.

The room is very dark, and I wonder how the Buffer can see anything with those sunglasses. I am about to voice my musings when Edward interrupts me.

"We can leave our coats here." He quickly removes his own jacket, and as soon as I have unbuttoned my coat, he removes it from my shoulders. He hands them over to a coat checker, a bored looking Asian girl.

So much is going through my head at the moment that I barely notice when Edward gently guides me forward, his hand at the small of my back. He finally opens a door, and what greets us is simply amazing.

"Wow," I mutter as I take in the gigantic room. The building definitely did not look this large on the outside.

The room is decorated in warm colors, red carpets with little patterns on them, golden lining on the panels and banisters, and the lighting is just right to make the whole room seem like it's lit with warm fires. In the center of the room is a big dance floor, falling a couple of steps below the rest of the room,and it's filled with people. At the far end, on the other side of the dance floor, is a live band playing Latin music. The rhythm goes straight to my hips and I unconsciously start moving my butt.

After taking everything in, I am brought back to reality by Edward's soft chuckle beside me.

"Come on," he says before leading me up the stairs on our right. I'm trying really hard not to make a fool out of myself by moving to that damn alluring rhythm, so I nearly trip on a step when we're almost all the way up. Luckily, Edward is there to catch me and prevent me meeting the floor on either side.

I gracefully straighten up at the top of the staircase and smile my best. "Thanks for that," I thank him, before following him once more.

He stops in front of the host's counter.

"Table for two, Masen," he announces to the waiter.

He smiles. "Yes, your table is ready. Follow me, please," he says as he grabs two menus. He leads us to a table next to the banister, overlooking the dance floor. I quickly sit down, admiring the view, before looking up at Edward, who is standing behind the chair on the opposite side, his brow a bit furrowed. After a moment he chuckles and sits down in the chair, and I realize what he was doing.

"Oh, God. You were holding that out for me, weren't you?" I ask, mortified that I missed the gesture.

Edward laughs. "Yeah, I was," he admits.

"I'm sorry," I start. "I'm just totally unused to these kinds of things, like door openings and stuff. It's so old fashion, you know…" I try to explain, hoping he knows where I'm coming from.

"It's alright, Bella. I'm not offended. It's just how I was raised."

I picture a small sized Edward, dressed in a morning coat, donning a top hat. I chuckle at the idea, before turning my focus on the menu.

"So, what's good here?" I ask as I read through a list of Cuban dishes.

"Oh, everything is good here, but I suggest you skip the Piña Asadas. That's grilled pineapples." He winks. For a moment I regret my lie about the pineapples, because grilled pineapples are yummy, and the description on the menu sounds  _so_  good. Of course it could be a case of you-want-what-you-can't-have.

Just as I am ready to order, a waiter approaches us with two margaritas.

"Here you go, a little appetizer on the house," he explains as he sets them down on the table. "Are you two ready to order?"

Edward looks at me expectantly, probably waiting for me to answer.

"Yeah, I'll have the coconut chicken and roasted potatoes, thank you."

"And you, sir," the waiter says, addressing Edward.

"I'll have the costillitas with the roasted potatoes, please."

"And anything to drink?" the waiter asks, as he collects our menus.

"Just water?" Edward suggest, looking at me.

"Yeah, water sounds good." It's probably a good idea not to get too drunk this evening. One margarita is enough.

After the waiter leaves, Edward and I sit together in comfortable silence as I peruse the dance floor below us. I gently sip my margarita, staring at a particularly raunchy couple dancing, before suddenly something clicks in my head.

My head turns towards Edward so fast, I almost get whiplash. "You're expecting me to dance, aren't you?" Suddenly my palms start to sweat and my heart starts racing. _I. Cannot. And will not. Dance._

First his eyes grow wide, but then he relaxes and he chuckles, yet again. He opens his mouth to speak, but I interrupt.

"Don't you dare, Chuckles!" I warn him. I'm confident he was just about to explain how it was not a big deal and you-don't-really-have-to-know-how-to-dance, it's-all-in-the-leading bullshit, but I'm not falling for that. "Just so you know, there is no way I'm even attempting to dance tonight," I say firmly.

At first he looks surprised, but his features soften and he smiles at me. "You don't have to dance if you don't want to, but I just thought you'd enjoy trying," he explains.

I scoff. "If you think I enjoy twisting my ankles, you've got another thing coming, buddy." Geez, I don't know where my attitude is coming from, but I sure am bitchy tonight. Maybe I'm about to start my period or something.

Edward seems to accept my reasoning, but keeps smiling. "If I remember correctly, you weren't afraid of that when dancing at  _Passion_ , back in the beginning of quarter."

"That was different," I say, frowning.

"How so?" he shoots back.

"Well, first, I was drunk, and second, swaying your hips and mindlessly moving is a lot less intimidating and dangerous than this type of dancing. Whatever this is," I anxiously explain, gesturing with my hands.

He laughs at me, but nods. "I see, I see. As I said, you don't have to dance if you don't want to, but," he starts, leaning in, "I kinda think you  _do_  want to," he says, showing me his deliciously crooked smile.

"Yeah?" I lean in, too. "How so?" I ask confidently. I'm sure he's just bullshitting, trying to coax me to admit that I actually want to try. Which I kinda do.

"Well, you have been 'swaying your hips and mindlessly moving' your shoulders," he quotes, "the whole time here, so I'm guessing you are actually itching to dance." He pauses, before adding, "Unless you have a nervous twitch or something."

He leans back in his chair as I gape at him. I didn't think I had been so obvious with my movements. Does that mean he's been staring at me this whole time?

I sit back, defeated. "Alright, you're right," I admit. "I have always wanted to learn how to dance like that, but there's no way, no how, I'll do it in public and in heels."

"Alright, if you say so." He nods, smiling knowingly. I narrow my eyes at him, and am just about to say something snarky, just anything to wipe that grin off his face, when our staring contest is interrupted by the waiter.

"Here you go, miss." The waiter hands us our meals, and the chicken looks absolutely delicious.

As we sit and eat, we chat about inconsequential things, like school and family. It's all in all a rather dull conversation, but for once it's not awkward. It might have something to do with the music. It just makes things more cheerful.

Edward tells me about his mother and how it was growing up in Chicago. I also discover that he has always wanted to be a doctor, but finding out that his biological father actually is one only sealed the deal. Despite the brief approach to the father subject, and my subtle questions about the situation, he smoothly avoids the topic and changes it to something else. He usually changes it to something about me, which irritates me to no end.

"So what are you doing for Christmas?" Edward asks me as we both sit back after finishing our food.

"Well, actually, I'm not doing anything," I admit. "Working mostly, I guess."

"Really?" He looks astonished. "You're not spending it with family?"

I shrug. "My family is going to Europe and I can't afford to go with them. It's something they've had planned for a long time, and it involves something with Phil's family, so…" I trail off.

"It's a shame," Edward says quietly. "No one should spend Christmas alone."

"It's okay." I shrug again. "They came over for Thanksgiving, so it hasn't been too long since I've seen them. And I'll be working as much as I can, and the rest of the time I'll probably spend drinking." I smile at him, trying to show that I'm really not bothered by this.

"Wait, Phil's your stepfather, right?" he asks, and I nod. "So what about your father? Why can't you spend time with him?"

Ah. My weak spot. A pang of hurt goes through my chest, and I look down before answering in a quiet voice, "He died almost a year ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Edward's voice sounds a bit panicky, so I look up to see if he's okay.

"It's alright, you didn't know," I try to placate him, attempting to smile.

Our waiter arrives to collect our dishes; perfect timing to distract us from the dreadful topic.

"Would you like anything for desert?" he offers.

"Yeah," Edward answers. "We'll have a slice of the opera cake, please."

"Really, Edward, I don't think I can eat another bite," I huff as I pat my stomach, even though that small gesture might cause my belly to explode.

He chuckles, however, and repeats the order to the waiter. When the waiter turns to leave, Edward explains, "You'll love the cake, and we're sharing the slice, so you'll probably be alright." He winks, as if to punctuate his statement.

I can't help but frown. He has unknowingly stumbled upon my sweet tooth. Even though I know I can't possibly eat more, I still can't say no to cake.

Turns out I was right not to deny it. A couple of minutes later, the waiter comes back with a large slice of delicious looking cake with a side of whipped cream. The layers are artfully done, and I'm almost sad that I have to ruin the beautiful waves in order to taste this masterpiece.

The waiter hands us each a small fork, and Edward waits expectantly for me to take the first bite. I'm so full with food that I kinda just want to roll over and die, but the chocolate cake looks so good that I can't resist having a small taste.

The moment the chocolaty substance hits my mouth, it's like the world fades into black and white, and I'm aware of nothing but me and the deliciousness that is this cake. The low guttural moan can't be helped, and I'm pretty sure I'm sporting my orgasm face.

A distinctive chuckle brings me back to awareness, and I swallow as I look at Edward. "I told you it was good," Edward says, his mouth full of cake.

"Didn't your mother tell you not to speak with your mouth full?" I ask as I help myself to another bite.

Edward reaches out and takes a big piece of the cake, jams it in his mouth, then says something resembling a "No" through the food, causing goo to spray over the table. I start to giggle at his behavior, which makes him chuckle, which then makes me laugh, and he starts fighting to keep his food inside his mouth. Crumbs are falling everywhere and people are starting to look at us. I try my best to hold in my laughter, just so Edward could maybe swallow his cake, but I can't. My cheeks are aching and my stomach is cramping, but Edward looks so funny with his cheeks bloated, and he has resorted to grab his nose, probably to prevent things to spill out from there.

Finally he manages to gulp down his cake and can allow himself to properly laugh. We try not to be too loud, in order not to disturb the other patrons, but people are still staring at us, some more amused than others.

After a few moments, we eventually manage to calm down. We don't say anything; we just continue to eat our cake, still smiling about the incident. Edward politely allows me to take the last bite, which I enjoy to the fullest, allowing it to melt in my mouth. Once it's done, I sit back, close my eyes, and sigh contently.

I feel so overstuffed and fat at the moment, and slightly guilty over eating all that food, but I can't find it in me to care. I feel all warm and fuzzy and well fed, and the taste of chocolate is still lingering in my mouth.

As I open my eyes again, I see Edward smiling at me. It creeps me out a little bit, the thought of him staring at me at what feels like a rather private moment, but his smile is sweet and looks almost involuntary, so I can't be bothered by it.

"What?" I ask, chuckling slightly at his expression.

"Oh, nothing, you just have a little chocolate on your face," he explains, touching his own chin. I mirror his movements, trying to wipe off the alleged chocolate stain of my face, but he just laughs at me.

"No, further to the right," he guides me with suggestive hand movements. "Seriously, Bella. You're just spreading it now," he chides as I frustratingly nudge my chin. Eventually I pick up my spoon, lick it clean and use the reflection to guide me. Once I'm done, Edward is hiding his face in his hands, quietly laughing.

I snort. "It's too late to hide now, buddy. You've already been seen with me."

He laughs even harder at that. I giggle at him—he just looks so adorable while laughing!

After a minute or two, he calms down, and awkwardness settles between us. The dining part of dinner is obviously over, the waiters have cleared our table, and we seem to be out of topics. I furiously try to wrack my brain for something to talk about, but my mind is drawing a blank.

"So…" Edward begins, obviously feeling the awkwardness. "It's a no on the dancing, then?" he asks, and I have a feeling that the dancing had been the cherry on top of the dating-sundae in his mind.

"I'm sorry," I offer, feeling uncomfortable. I don't want to be the fuddy-duddy who ruins the evening, but I'm pretty serious when I say that I don't dance.

"It's okay."

We sit in silence for a few more moments.

"Want to go home?" he adds, before suggesting, "Maybe we could go take a stroll through the park?"

"Sure," I agree and we stand up.

Edward leads me downstairs again, and I hold on for dear life as we descend, not wanting to fall. I pause slightly when the dance floor comes back into view, and I look at all those couples dancing to the rhythmic music.

"Are you  _sure_  you don't want to dance?" Edward asks once again.

I sigh. "Look, I kinda want to dance, but I'm horrible at it, and I'm wearing heels, so I can guarantee you that I will twist my ankles if I even so much as try," I explain sincerely in a low voice.

He gently smiles in return. "That's okay, maybe later, then?"

"Yeah, definitely later," I say, smiling in relief.

We head back outside once we get our coats. Edward leads me back to his car, and once I sit down in the leather seat, the combination of comfort and being absolutely filled to the brim with food makes me extremely tired. As soon as the engine purrs to life and the soothing notes of some band I've never heard before start to fill the car, my eyes start to droop.

I'm brought back to consciousness as the car stops. My head snaps up and I look at Edward, confused.

"Where are we?" I ask before looking out. I see that we are outside my apartment building. I'm slightly disappointed that this seems to be the end of the date.

Edward chuckles quietly. "You fell asleep, so I thought I'd rather just take you home than make you stay up," he almost whispers.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I guess I'm just really tired," I explain, feeling awful that I ruined the date. I'm nervously rubbing my fingers, since I'm not entirely sure how to proceed from here. If I hadn't fallen asleep, I might have actually thought about what would happen at the end of the date, but now it's here, relatively unexpectedly, and I don't know what to do. Do I say goodbye and just assume he won't follow me up to the door? Should I invite him inside? That will probably make me seem cheap.

As I ponder these things, I unbuckle my seat belt, and I'm slightly relieved to see that he does that as well.

Edward meets me at my side of the car and walks with me up the few steps to the front door. I turn towards him once we reach the door.

"I'm not gonna invite you in," I joke, smiling.

He laughs and grins back. "I know."

"So…" I start.

"So…" he echoes.

"I had a great time tonight," I offer, trying to break the silence.

"Yeah, me too," he counters.

The air is not so much awkward anymore, but more comfortable. I still struggle with how to end the evening, because I'm not sure how things are between us. I know that it was intended to be romantic, but for some reason I feel more friendly towards him, rather than crushing on him. It's like something happened and all my romantic feelings towards him have died. I don't feel fluttery inside, I don't desperately want him to kiss me or hold me while we watch TV. I'm just fine with being friends.

Eventually Edward spreads his arms, and I move in for a hug. It's brief, but enough for me to catch a waft of his scent, which is oh so lovely. I wonder if my coat will smell like him once I let go, and if I will actually go upstairs and sniff it like the pathetic girly-girl I am.

Once we let go, I turn to open the door. I turn back around and offer him a small smile. "So, I'll see you around?"

"Yeah." He smiles briefly back at me, before looking slightly pained. I'm scared to ask what's wrong, so I hurry inside.

As I walk up the stairs to my apartment, I wonder what might have happened to make him look that way, but my mind is drawing a blank. Could it be that he wanted more? Was it only me who felt the friendly vibe?

The girls are lurking in the living room when I walk in, undoubtedly waiting to attack me with questions about the night. I just tell them that it was great, but since I'm really tired, I excuse myself and continue to my bedroom.

I shrug out of my coat, and for a moment I hold it, wondering if I should sniff it. I can't resist, so I put it up to my nose and take a deep breath. It smells faintly like him, and I somehow expect to get the old spark for him I'd had before, but it's not there. I feel slightly disappointed at the revelation, seeing as I finally have some prospect at fixing my obsession with not having a boyfriend, but apparently I just can't be pleased.


	10. The Christmas of the Lonely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on SiK: Bella and Edward go on their date. Bella is a bit ambivalent about it all, but the date turns out rather nice. He takes her to a hidden Latin club with dancing and the works. He tries to get her to dance, but she's not having it (in a typical Bella fashion, she has two left feet). At the end of the night, though happy about the evening, Bella doesn't feel the spark she once felt with him.

_**About two weeks later—two days before Christmas** _

Spending Christmas alone is not my idea of fun. In fact, it sucks big balls. I'm spending most of the holidays working at the bookstore, earning a pretty penny, and even though it's been quite busy with all the Christmas shopping, I've still had plenty of time to think, which is not always a good thing.

Edward and I have become very good friends. Not much changed after the date, aside from things being a lot less awkward than before. He still frequents the apartment often, or he did before he went back to Chicago with Alice. We sometimes get together over a cup of coffee just to chat and have fun. His pained look has not returned, so I'm still holding out hope that I just stepped on his toe, rather than having done something incredibly stupid.

Alice, Edward and Kate have only been gone for a few days, and I relish in the quietness of the apartment. Of course a part of me misses them, but they are coming back on the thirtieth. I know a lot of their return has to do with me being alone this Christmas, but Kate claims that it's simply because they want to throw the grandest New Year's Eve party ever known to man.

Today was gruesome at  _Front & Cover_, as many people are buying last minute Christmas presents. I'm exhausted when I walk through the door, so I go straight to my bedroom to change into a tank top and boy shorts. Once properly dressed, I make my way to the kitchen, fetch a half empty carton of Ben and Jerry's and a bottle of white wine, and get comfortable in front of the TV.

The ice cream and wine do a marvelous job at soothing my aching muscles from standing all day. I don't even care that there's nothing good playing on TV: nothing can kill my mood tonight.

My phone buzzes from the kitchen counter, and for a second I entertain the idea of not checking what it might be, but my curiosity kicks my laziness in the butt, and I stand up. The phone shows one message in my inbox, and I click to open it as I make my way back to the couch.

> _**How is vacation treating you? –E** _

I smile. Edward has texted me even more than my supposed friends, Kate and Alice, constantly checking up on me. The best thing is that he never overdoes it. I tend to get irritated when people don't back off and hound me for answers, but he's been very nice.

> _**I'm good, tired, but chilling w/ a bottle of wine. How's vacay w/ the family? –B** _

I flop back onto the sofa, taking a big chug of wine. I set the phone down on my stomach as I continue to watch a rerun of  _The Vampire Diaries_. The idea of two hundred year old vampires makes me snort, although Stefan and Damon look unbelievably yummy. Just as Stefan appears topless on screen, my phone buzzes, distracting me from my drooling.

> _**It's alright. I kind of miss Seattle, though. Any plans for tonight? –E** _

I'm quick to type out an answer.

> _**Nope, no plans. Just getting drunk on my own and watching bad TV. U? –B** _
> 
> _**I'm meeting up with some old high school friends. I'm sure you'll have more fun than I. –E** _
> 
> _**I doubt it. When does it start? –B** _
> 
> _**Soon, I'm just getting ready to leave actually. –E** _
> 
> _**Well, don't let me keep you! Have fun ;) –B** _

I focus back on the TV, where an episode of  _True Blood_  is now airing. I wonder why vampires have become so popular lately, because honestly, I don't see the appeal.

My phone buzzes once again, which surprises me.

> _**I will if you promise to have fun :) –E** _

I smile.

> _**Haha, I will, I promise –B** _

I put the phone on the coffee table and start watching TV again.  _True Blood_  looks much more promising than  _The Vampire Diaries—_ let's face it: they have Eric, Bill AND Jason, who's by far my favorite. Nothing beats dumb and pretty. Besides, he's human, which is always a plus in my book.

As the second episode of  _True Blood_  rounds up, I'm feeling extremely tired. I pick up my phone, turn off the TV, and bring the empty wine bottle and the empty B&J carton with me to the kitchen. I quickly get ready for bed, longing for the comfort only my comforter can bring me.

* * *

 

I wake up, screaming in pain. My guts are being ripped out of a tiny hole in my stomach, or that's what it feels like. I clutch my stomach, trying to crawl into myself in order to alleviate this pain. Another wave of convulsion strikes through me, and I can't help but groan in displeasure. Tears stream down my face, and I wonder if I'm dying.

For a brief moment, I feel myself relax, and the relief is so great that for a second I feel like I'm floating. It doesn't last long, though, and before I know it, I'm huddled together in a heap of cramps.

When I realize that this is not just a few harmless stomach cramps, but more like a piercing pain, I grow scared. I would have thought it was my appendix acting out, but that was removed ages ago. There is no logical reason for why I'm hurting.

Another wave washes over me and I just know that I have to see a doctor. I look for my phone and spot it on my desk. Taking a deep breath, I roll myself out of bed, but as soon as I straighten up, another blast of cramps grips my insides and I collapse on the floor. I scream in frustration and wait for it to pass.

Finally there's a moment of calm, and I hurry up to get my phone. I don't even think about what I'm doing, and I quickly dial Dr. Cullen's number. Over the years we've established such a relaxed patient-doctor relationship that it feels more like I'm calling a family friend. As it rings, I slide down the wall beside the desk, drained of all energy.

After a few moments, his gruff voice answers, as if he had been sleeping. "Hello?"

"Hi, Dr… Carlisle, it's Bella," I begin, but I'm cut short as another stab of pain takes over my guts. Every muscle clenches in awareness, and I try not to scream, instead letting out an ugly grunt.

"Bella?" Carlisle sounds out, a hint of confusion in his voice.

"I don't know what's happening… my stomach… it hurts!" I cry into the phone, trying to breathe through the pain.

"Wait, where are you? Are you in Seattle?" he asks, some of it slightly muffled.

"Yeah, just at my apartment… I don't know what… to do! I can't—" I try to explain, hoping that some of my sniffles don't carry through the line.

"Alright, is there someone with you?" He sounds more alert now, and I hear him moving.

"No… I'm alone," I answer. "I can't move, the cramps are too bad!" I whimper.

"Relax, Bella. I'll call for an ambulance to take you to the ER. I'll meet you there," he says soothingly through the phone. "Everything will be alright."

As if his words had something to do with it, I'm instantly relaxed and able to concentrate on giving him the information he needs. He asks where I live, and I tell him the address and how to access the building, letting him know of the spare key above the apartment door so the EMTs will be able to get to me.

Once I hang up, I slowly crawl back into bed, dreading every single wave of agony and reveling in those few moments of relaxation in between. I try not to think of the implications of meeting Carlisle again, but there is still a small part of me that recognizes that I haven't seen him since the awkward incident before Thanksgiving.

Finally, I hear someone enter the apartment, and like clockwork my cramps start again. If there was any question as to where I am located, I'm sure it's quickly answered as I scream bloody murder. The pain intensifies and spreads through my abdomen, even reaching my butt and thighs.

Soon, a man is standing above me, hands finding my forehead and neck, probably checking to see if I have a fever or something. With calming words, he puts his arms under my knees and behind my back, lifting me off the floor and putting me on a gurney. As he rolls me out of the bedroom, he introduces himself as James and tells me that he's here with his co-worker, Victoria. That's when I notice the woman standing in the kitchen. In a moment of lucidity, I beg her to collect my purse from my dresser, since I'll need my insurance card.

Throughout the whole ride to the hospital, the cramps continue on and off. Whenever my muscles relax, I hope this time it's just done, but a couple of minutes later, another wave has me in agony.

When we get to the ER, Carlisle is there waiting for me. He motions for the EMTs to bring me to an empty room. Once there, I'm left to wait. No one, not even nurses or Carlisle, comes to check on me for what feels like forever, but it is more likely close to ten minutes. Then finally a doctor walks in, and it irritates me that it's not Carlisle.

"Where's doctor Cullen?" I ask, grinding my teeth as another wave of pain winds down. The new doctor has an irritated look about him, like he'd much rather spend his night with something more exciting than a girl with stomach pains. He looks young, like he might be one of the interns or residents around this place.

"He said you fired him as a physician," he grumbles as he studies my chart. "I'm Dr. Karev, I'll be taking over your case."

Another convulsion takes over my insides all brain activity goes out the window. I just want him to fix me, that's all I care about.

The doctor orders me to lie still on my back before he starts prodding and poking my belly, asking me if it hurts more or less. It feels awkward and uncomfortable to lie like this, but I try to suck it up and be a big girl. After a while, he grimaces and grumbles, "I need to do an ultrasound. Wait here while I go get the machine." He exits the room and I'm left here, hoping he'll return quickly so I can be put out of my misery.

Soon, he comes back in, rolling in a funny looking computer. He sets it up by my bed while asking me to lift up my top. When everything is good and ready, he squirts some chilly gel thing on my lower abdomen and starts prodding around with the wand.

"Looks like you've had a cystic rupture," Dr. Karev says in a bored voice. He prods around some more, looking at what seems like only blue and black shadows, and then eventually turns off the machine. "I'm going to give you a prescription for antibiotics and some painkillers for now, since it doesn't seem to be serious. You'll need to see your gyno in a month or so to have it checked out again." He doesn't look at me once while he explains this, but rather scribbles down on my chart and then finally fills out a prescription.

He hands me the piece of paper, finally looking up at me. I wince as another sting shoots through my abdomen.

"How can this not be serious?" I ask incredulously. "The pain is excruciating!"

Dr. Karev frowns. "The cyst that ruptured was a benign one, so basically, it hurt like a bitch but it didn't do any damage. The antibiotics will make sure that there's no infection, the pain meds take care of the pain, and if your gyno finds any more cysts in a month, then he'll probably put you on medication to control them. Take this prescription and get it filled as soon as possible," he says, nodding to the paper in my hand. "A nurse will be here in a minute with your first dose, which should last for about twenty-four hours."

He only waits for a moment to see if I have any questions, before bolting out of the room. I just sit there, wringing my hands in my lap—a pure sign of discomfort—squeezing them extra hard when another wave of sharp pain explores my abdomen. A few moments later, a nurse walks in with a small glass of water and some pills, ordering me to consume it. She then hands me a pair of hospital scrubs, indicating that she'd rather I go home in them than my current state of dress – panties and a tank top. Once dressed, I make my way out to the front desk, as I need to go over my insurance and stuff with the nurses. As I approach one of them, I'm informed that Dr. Cullen has already taken care of it. That's when I notice Carlisle walking towards me, my purse in his hands.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his eyes scanning my body as if searching for some ailment or another.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I answer, puzzled at his worried appearance. "What are you still doing here?"

"Well, you said you had no one staying with you over the holidays, so I decided to stay, in case it was something serious," he explained, his words rushed. "So, what did Dr. Karev say? Was it something serious?"

I blush and quickly answer, "No! It was nothing, really…" I trail off. I definitely do  _not_  want to go into details as to how my lady parts are being a bitch. "Just lady problems," I say vaguely, hoping that the mention of that will scare him off the topic.

"Oh," he responds. There is silence for a few moments as he's clearly thinking, and I use the time to sign some form handed to me by a nurse. Finally, he asks, "Are you pregnant?"

"What?" I shriek, shocked. "No! And you don't get to ask me questions, you're not my doctor anymore, remember?" I point out, irritated by his behavior.

He has the decency to look at least somewhat ashamed at my remark. "Sorry. After what happened the last time you came to see me, I just can't treat you anymore," he says quietly. The nurse behind the desk eyes us curiously, and Carlisle quickly grabs me by the arm and starts walking with me away from the front desk. "Let me give you a ride home and we can talk about it, okay?"

I nod and make my way with him outside, where he leads me to a black Mercedes. Although he indicated he wanted to chat, we sit in silence as we drive back to my apartment. Finally, he parks outside my building, cutting off the engine. I can see that there is something on his mind and it makes me want to reach out to him.

"Do you want to come upstairs, maybe talk?" I offer quietly.

"Bella, you understand why I can't be your doctor anymore, don't you?" he asks, but in his agitation, he doesn't allow me to answer. "We crossed a line which can't be uncrossed."

"I know," I mutter. "I'm sorry about attacking you that night."

"It's as much my fault as it is yours. I didn't exactly stop you," he admits, just as quietly. It makes me feel slightly better to know that he doesn't hate me for risking his job like that.

After a long silent moment, I turn to fully look at him. "Listen, how about you come upstairs, we can talk over a cup of coffee or tea or something," I suggest. I can sense that he has something more to say, and even though the mere thought of someone going near my wounded lady parts makes me cringe, my slutty cheerleaders are bouncing at the prospect of Carlisle being that much closer to my bed.

Carlisle agrees and we make our way up to my apartment. Once upstairs, I prepare us each a cup of Earl Grey and we make our way to the living room. We settle on the couch, each with a large mug in hand. The space between us is gigantic, made even bigger by the silence hanging over us. I decide to be brave and start this conversation.

"So, Carlisle. Why isn't a hot, successful doctor like yourself already married?" I ask, taking a gulp of tea. I've decided that whatever happens and whatever will be said will be because of the pain meds I'm on. I'm sure they can be held accountable for any brazen behavior, right?

Carlisle laughs gently. "I guess I've just been too busy to settle down. It's not easy being a 'hot, successful doctor,'" he jokes, but then his serious face slips back on. "I just haven't found the right person, I guess," he adds wistfully.

"What about family? Do you have anyone around to spend Christmas with?" I probe, even though I know that for a lonely person, it's the most annoying question ever.

He takes another sip before answering, "No, no family this Christmas. I'm spending most of the holidays working, covering for those who actually do have families."

"Well, that's kind of you," I offer, smiling softly.

He only grimaces, offering a small, "Yeah."

We sit in silence again, and I contemplate the enigma that is Carlisle Cullen. He has always seemed so calm, collected and happy, but the man sitting next to me is far from happy. I wonder what has made him so... troubled?

His hand is absently fiddling with his ring finger, stroking and massaging an invisible ring. He is looking straight ahead —at nothing in particular it seems—deep in thought.

"Are you okay?" I ask softly. I want to grab his hand or put a hand on his arm or something, to show that I'm here, but I'm afraid that it will blur the new line. The gap between us serves as a reminder that we are only two people sitting together, not longtime friends.

His attention is captured and he confusedly looks towards me. "Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine," he says absentmindedly, looking straight ahead. A moment later he shifts in his seat, as if he can't decide if he should stand up or not. He turns to look at me, and there's definite sadness present in his features.

I decide to stop listening to my senses, and I gently reach out a hand and touch his shoulder. "Are you sure?" I ask again. "If you need to talk, I'm here…" I trail off in a whisper.

He looks at me, staring into my eyes, looking as if he's trying to decide something. I give him a small smile, thinking it might possibly ease his mind.

"Listen," I start, an idea forming in my head. "You're working Christmas day, right?" I ask.

"Yes, and the twenty-sixth," he answers, nodding.

"Okay, so you have the twenty-seventh off, right?" I inquire further.

"Yes, why?"

"How about you come over for a belated Christmas dinner on the twenty-seventh? No gifts or anything, just two people who don't have anyone else in the city, and some pretty delicious food. I'm an awesome cook, if I say so myself," I suggest, winking at him. Carlisle is smiling and nodding in my direction, clearly thinking over this idea.

"I think I would love that," he answers, his sparkly blue eyes meeting my own. "Thank you for the offer."

The grin spreading on my own face shows my excitement, happy that I'm able to save not only myself from utter loneliness and a lame Christmas, but also Carlisle. I've already decided to go volunteer at a homeless shelter not far away from here during those days the bookstore will be closed, so the idea of feeding one more mouth makes me feel like an even better person.

"So, say six on Sunday?" I ask to confirm the date.

"Six on Sunday," he repeats, matching my grin.

* * *

 

**_Four days later_ **

Thanks to my fondness for cooking, I have prepared a feast big enough to feed six greedy people. I know that I'll probably be eating leftovers until well into the New Year, but I just couldn't help myself. When I had gone searching for recipes for this belated Christmas dinner, I kept coming across something incredibly delicious and mouthwatering that I just had to include it as an option. After going through several elimination rounds, I ended up with a five-course dinner plus appetizers.

Everything is going according to schedule, and just as the oven timer gives me a five-minute warning, I hear a knock on my apartment door. I wash my hands in the kitchen sink and dry them on my apron as I go to open the door.

Carlisle smiles brightly as I gesture for him to enter, offering to take his dark brown leather jacket—which, by the way, makes him look all the more yummy. Underneath, he's wearing a navy blue shirt and black dress slacks. His whole appearance kind of makes me think of the phrase  _tall, dark and handsome._

As we make our way into the kitchen, Carlisle reaches out and offers me a bottle of wine.

"Here, I felt it was only appropriate that I'd bring something, since it's Christmas and you're cooking," he says, offering me a friendly smile.

"Oh, you didn't have to," I say back politely, but take the bottle anyway. I'm glad he did bring it, because even with my insane organizing obsession, I also have a crappy memory and the issue of something to drink with the main course totally slipped my mind.

I offer him a seat at the dinner table, informing him that dinner is almost ready.

"I didn't expect to be fed right as I walked through the door, Bella," he jokes, laughing at my enthusiasm about being a proper host.

"Oh, well, we're on a tight schedule," I inform him as I make my way to the kitchen. "I've got five courses planned for this evening. I'd be surprised if you'll be able to walk out the door this evening, I've made so much food." His laughter travels through the apartment, and it warms me to have some life here again.

The dinner goes as smoothly as possibly, although I'm a bit preoccupied with the schedule to be able to focus on having a nice conversation. We spend the better part of two hours commenting on the food, talking about our boring lives—since we're both just busy with work – and reminiscing about Christmas past. That is, when I'm not running to the kitchen to check on the next course.

Eventually, we end up on the living room couch, trying to muster up the will to taste the dessert—my grandmother's chocolate mousse.

"You know what?" I say, eyeing the two bowls of what I know is heaven. "I say we wait for a couple of hours before we eat this." I look at Carlisle to gauge his reaction, and I'm glad to see that he looks almost relieved.

"Oh yes, I like that idea," he agrees and sits back on the sofa.

I gather the two bowls and the can of whipped cream and put them away in the fridge. Instead I grab the bottle of red from the dinner and bring it and our glasses with me back to the living room. I'm insanely happy about not having to worry about mixing alcohol with my meds – I did a little research on that earlier, just to be sure, and found out that both of them should be safe around booze, although it's recommended to drink in moderation. My mental cheerleaders make an appearance again, and go berserk at the prospect of a drunken romp. I frantically try to remind them that I have decided to be celibate and not get involved with boys —or men, as in this case—but they simply aren't listening.

When I've poured us each a generous amount, I flop down on the sofa beside Carlisle, gently rubbing my belly.

"I am so full," I almost sigh, a fuzzy feeling settling in my stomach. Being well fed and in social contact with another human being is really nice, and I love that Carlisle and I are settling into a friendly adult relationship.

"So," I start, turning my head in Carlisle's direction, practically unable to move anything else. "Tell me about your family. Any brothers or sisters?" I probe, wanting more details on him.

"No, I'm an only child, although I did grow up pretty close with my cousins," he admits. "My mother and her sister were always very close and ended up living in the same neighborhood, so they were never far away."

"Do you have any kids?" I ask with interest. Carlisle looks shocked at my question and for a second I see a flicker of something, though I can't quite put a finger on what it is. "I'm sorry if I'm being too forward," I backtrack. "I'm just curious!"

He looks at me for a moment, his face set in a mask. Finally, he answers slowly, "No, no children."

"Do you want any?"  _Shit, I have got to stop with the intrusive questions!_ I prepare to apologize for my second question, but I notice a slight smile appear on Carlisle's face.

"Maybe one day," he admits before adding more wine to his glass, and politely offering me more. I hand over my glass, while I have a vision of Carlisle playing around with his hypothetical children—which would be insanely cute and cuddly-looking—and I'm instantly convinced that he would be a great dad.

"Do you want kids?" he asks, effectively ridding myself of the mental image of him tickling little blonde haired, blue-eyed toddlers. And, surprisingly, I find the question a bit personal and hard to answer.

"I don't know..." I start awkwardly. "I mean, not right now, at least... Though I haven't really thought about it all that much... But sure, maybe one day..." I stutter and nervously play with my almost empty glass, shrugging my shoulders, trying not to seem uncomfortable by the topic.

We sit in silence for a few moments, both of us taking slow sips of our wine. I realize that we've finished the bottle. Just as I think about how I'm not feeling its effects, I notice that my cheeks do indeed feel warmer—a sure indication that I'm slightly tipsy.

"So, are you working tomorrow?" I ask, hoping to get the conversation going again.

"No, I have the next two days off. I've got to let the family men get their shifts in between the two holidays," he explains.

"So no worries about going into work with a hangover," I joke, gesturing to the wine bottle.

Carlisle laughs gently and shakes his head. "No, I don't have to worry about that."

"Well, thank you for coming over tonight." I smile, turning more towards him. "I didn't think I'd miss having company so much when Alice and Kate left," I admit quietly.

"It was really my pleasure," Carlisle answers, taking my hand and squeezing it. I feel my flesh heat at the touch—the wine is definitely kicking in. My cheerleaders scream in anticipation as I look into his bright blue eyes, wondering if he feels the sudden tension in the room. I'm pretty sure he does feel it, as his hand freezes, clutching on to my hand like he's afraid to let go.

His eyes are searching mine—for what, I'm not sure—and eventually he scoots closer. His other hand slowly reaches out and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. My eyes close involuntarily at the touch of his fingertips at my cheek, and I wait for him to do something; no, I  _wish_  for him to do something, while knowing that I'm not brave enough to cross that line again. I feel his warm breath, smelling faintly of Merlot, and the closeness of his face has every nerve ending working in overload. I can  _sense_  that he's only a couple of inches away, and my mouth opens in expectation.

Finally, Carlisle's lips brush against mine, and as if that single touch was the only affirmation he needed, he quickens his movements, and bestows me with a searing kiss. Despite the initial surprise of going from slow and shy to a full-blown make out session, I kiss him back, clinging to him almost as desperately as he clings to me. His hand falls down to my shoulder, but quickly moves further down to my hips, nervously playing with the hem of my top.

"I'm tired of being alone, Bella," he whispers, his forehead resting against mine. "This Thanksgiving, when you kissed me, I wanted you so badly, but I was afraid of the implications for my career. I've been alone for so long that I think I'm losing myself sometimes. I don't want to be alone tonight."

The desperation in his voice feels like it matches my loneliness. Spurred on by the fact that he wants me—and backed up by the wine and the slutty cheerleaders—I decide that tonight I can be stupid.

My hands slowly stroke his cheeks and move down the slope of his neck, over his shoulders and down his arms. As I grab his hands in mine, I whisper, "I don't want to be alone either." I stand up, still holding his hands, and drag him with me through the living room, down the hall and into my bedroom. The tension is heavy, as we both know that if we go through with this, there's no going back. We are crossing a much more dangerous line than that night during Thanksgiving break.

I slowly lower myself down on the bed, dragging Carlisle with me. It relieves me that he doesn't show any signs of hesitation. His mouth seeks my mouth again, and his kisses grow more urgent, almost to the point where it is difficult for me to keep up with him. I claw at his shirt, trying to get it out of the way, and he quickly extricates himself from me to remove it.

My fingers dance across the planes of his chest and through the light shimmer of chest hair. His body is in excellent shape, and I fleetingly think that guys my age aren't built like that. As my hands explore his body, I catch his eye and notice his indecisiveness. We both know that this is stupid, but I give him a gentle smile, trying to convey that it's alright to be stupid sometimes. Meanwhile, I ignore the warning flags going off in my mind, reminding me that I was supposed to be celibate. Not to mention the huge age gap between us.

I feel his strong hands grip my hips and move under my top. Slowly but decisively, he drags them upwards, bringing both that and the tank-top underneath with him. My breath quickens once I feel the soft pads of his fingers gently stroke the undersides of my breasts. He barely grazes them, though, as he continues to remove my clothes, despite me arching my back—both encouraging him to finish the job and touch my breasts more aggressively.

As soon as my back touches the bed again, his lips are on my nipple, sucking and teasing with his hungry tongue. A low guttural moan escapes my lips, my fingers instantly finding refuge in his hair. I barely notice his fingers trailing down my stomach and into my skirt-covered panties. A sole finger finds its way to my folds, instantly finding my clit and tickling it in the most tantalizing way.

I squirm under his touch, searching for more friction.

"Oh, God," I pant, unable to form a coherent thought. Another finger slips between my lower lips and they search lower, trailing my opening. They dip inside, and in an instant, he finds the mythical spot known as "G."

"Holy mother of God!" I shout and fleetingly wonder if the neighbors are home. That is, until I can't think anymore due to the immense pleasure being given to me.

I pant and moan and groan and writhe, no longer aware of anything around me. I feel slightly selfish that he's giving me all this pleasure while I'm doing nothing to him, but there is just no way that I'm going to let him stop. He doesn't seem to mind, anyway, as he licks and nibbles on my nipple, his mouth and tongue slowly trailing upwards again. His belt buckle scratches my thigh, but there's something else, something bigger, poking me a little lower.

I feel like I'm just about to explode when he all of a sudden removes his fingers, gruffly whispering in my ear, "I got to have you. I need to feel you, Bella."

I shiver at his words, simply panting, "Yes," over and over again. My hands quickly find their way down to his slacks, unbuckling his belt with nimble fingers, impatient to feel the goodness within.

It doesn't take me long to remove his pants, impatiently pushing them down with my feet. Meanwhile, he continues to grind into me, every time getting closer and closer to the magic spot. When the pants are off, he reaches down to remove his boxers and a thrill runs through me as I feel him on my hip. Ever so curious, I reach down to touch him. As I make contact, his breaths become quicker, fanning over my ear.

The feeling of him in my hand is exciting and my nether regions tingle in anticipation. They have been so horribly neglected this past year, but the pulsing member in my hand is definitely something that will make them feel loved again. Besides, his fingers were more than capable of pleasing me, so I almost shrieking in anticipation of the goodness his dick will bring me.

"Fuck," I mumble when I realize I'm still wearing the skirt and underwear. "I need to get these fucking things off!" I growl as I claw at the material with my free hand. Carlisle gently laughs in my ear, enticingly nibbling at the sensitive skin on my neck.

He untangles himself from me, slowly dragging his hands down my body as he sits up on his knees. Finally, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my skirt, which luckily isn't skin tight but elastic, and draws it along with my panties down my legs, staring at me like I'm the most delicious piece of ass he's had in a long, long time. I revel in his stare, feeling strong and beautiful.

A thought, reminding me how much older than me he is, creeps me out a bit, but the gaping leap of years between us seems to be diminished in the mutual passion, mixed with raw desperateness. Because, yes, it is very clear to me that our desperation is what fuels us in our actions - the need to be close to another human being.

Once the rest of my clothes are off, I feel invigorated by the wave of horny-ness washing over me at the sight of his greeting dick. I rush up and almost jump at him, attacking him, kissing and licking wherever I can reach. His low laughter rumbles within his chest, and his hands find comfort on my ass, squeezing and kneading. I somehow manage to turn him down to the bed, laughing at the clumsiness coloring the action.

My legs find place on either side of him and I straighten up, supporting myself on his stomach. I'm inpatient to feel him inside of me, so I wiggle myself into position, rising slightly to align us.

"Wait," he croaks out, halting my movements by slipping a hand between my thighs, gently stroking my sensitive area. "Are you still on the pill?"

I blush, remembering why I chose not to go to him for that. It was back when I was too shy and way too ashamed to admit to him that I wanted to do exactly what I was doing right now to him.

"Yeah." I chuckle at the absurdness of this situation.

"How about condoms, do you have those?" he asks, and I wonder if he's going to go into a health and safety lecture.

"No, I don't have any, but don't worry, I'm clean," I assure him as I rub myself into his palm, wanting to continue.

"Yeah, but you shouldn't trust that I am," he continues, but I can see that his patience is wearing thin.

"Carlisle!" I huff, but decide to change my approach. I trail one hand down my stomach and beneath his hand and start touching myself before I continue, "You're a doctor, I trust that you know how to keep yourself clean. Now, I'm horny and I need to get busy, or else I'll explode. Can we please continue?" I slowly circle my hips in rhythm with my fingers and I feel him brushing against my inner thigh.

"Shit," he grumbles before I feel his fingers moving more vigorously with mine between my legs, the other hand stroking up and down his length. I know that his resolve is broken, and I gloat when I feel him move my hand out of the way.

My excitement intensifies at the touch of his tip so near to the holy land. I moan in contentment as he slides in, stretching me so delightfully. His stomach muscles tighten underneath my hands, where I'm trying to support myself.

I need a short moment to adjust to the penetration, feeling a bit like it's my second first time. It cannot be denied; he is pretty well endowed.

As soon as I relax a bit, I start moving, desperate for some friction. I kinda regret being on top, knowing I'd be much more relaxed if I'd be lying down. I somehow wobble up and down, rocking back and forth, and feeling infinitely less sexy than before.

He seems to sense my discomfort, and with quick movements he turns us over, crushing the wind out of me for a second. I huff, but he doesn't seem to notice as he starts sliding against me. I instinctively hook my legs around his muscled thighs and meet his every thrust. My hands search out for his hair, gently scratching at the scalp whenever he hits that wonderful spot.

I know I shouldn't, but as we moan and sigh into each other, I start comparing him to Emmett in my mind. The difference is as obvious as night and day—one is more gentle, more experienced, and knows exactly how to move in order to please a woman, while the other is more rough and in a hurry to get to the finish line. Of course, Emmett is not a bad lay, and he did learn how to pleasure me—with some practice—and he had me screaming for mercy at the highlight of our relationship.

But I like Carlisle's gentle and thorough movements, it makes it seem more intimate, more passionate. More grown up. I truly feel like I am finally experiencing a proper grown-up relationship, just without the relationship part…

His ministrations become more fervent, and I feel the buildup tighten within my abdomen. He continues to growl into my neck, one hand trailing over my breast, teasing the nipple. It ends up grazing my jaw and finding place in my hair, his mouth searching for mine. The kisses are short, interrupted by gasps and moans, and my mouth feels sloppy with mixed saliva and hot breath creating perspiration on my skin. I feel sticky and disgusting, but it just feels  _so_  good.

Eventually my toes curl and my muscles tighten in pleasure. I scream and growl and tighten my hold on Carlisle, enjoying every second of his solid body on top of mine. He lets out a breath in my hair, like he had been holding it in. A second later he convulses above me, a series of low grunts rumbling within his chest. I welcome his weight when he collapses onto me, burying his face in my neck.

I feel his every breath countering my own, enjoying how our chests dance back and forth. They become slower and slower, and eventually he yawns into my neck, his hot breath on my skin making me shiver. As I shrug from the sensation, he laughs silently and flops over to lie at my side. I curl into him, but I feel the leftovers of our play sticking between my thighs.

"I'm gonna go and clean up a bit. Wait here," I whisper as I sit up. His eyes are closed, but he nods at me, notifying me that he heard me. I get up and walk towards the bathroom, suddenly very aware of my nakedness.

The reflection in the bathroom mirror pleases me; I look thoroughly fucked and well satisfied. My flesh is still sensitive as I wash myself, and every muscle is screaming at me to get some rest. It's been a long day, but thankfully I get to sleep in tomorrow.

As I do my thing and freshen up a bit, I think of the man lying in my bed and wonder if he's getting ready to leave or if he's staying the night. Neither option scares me as much as I would have thought, and once again I feel more mature. I know that a one-night stand was not something I had planned, and was actually something I had sworn not to do, but the emotional detachment to the situation makes it so much better.

I make my way back to the bedroom and I giggle at the sight of the naked sleeping man in my bed. He's still in the same position I left him in, but he's snoring lightly, his mouth slightly open.

I crawl into bed with him and spread my comforter over the two of us before snuggling into his side. His arm encircles me, trapping me against him, but I couldn't be more comfortable.

For the first time in ages I fall asleep feeling totally content and safe.


	11. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on Simplicity is Key: It's Christmas time in Seattle and the gang have left the city - all except Bella. A severe stomach pain makes her reach out to Dr. Cullen again and he gets an ambulance to take her to the hospital to get checked out. Her stomach pain is sorted out, and Carlisle offers to take her home. They start talking, and Bella ends up inviting him over for late Christmas dinner, since they're both alone during the holidays. During the dinner, they have some wine, and oopsie, they end up in bed.

**_The next day_ **

I wake up to the smell of bacon wafting through the bedroom door, which is slightly ajar. There are definite signs of life coming from the kitchen-sounds of utensils being moved around and a deep voice gently humming a tune I can't quite place.

My mind is hazy, and I know there is something missing in the equation. In defiance of the morning grogginess, I turn on my side and bury my face in the pillow, hugging the comforter closer to myself. As I breathe in, I notice the pillow has some foreign scent attached to it, and in an instant everything falls into place.

_Oh my God, Carlisle's here…_

My eyes open and my body goes into fight or flight mode. A million and one thoughts rush through my head, everything between "What the fuck did I dream of and did he hear my sleep-talking?" and "Damn, will things be awkward now?"

I sigh and decide it's best to face things head on. It's time to be a grown-up and not a coward when dealing with my problems. I quickly throw on a t-shirt and sweats and run to the bathroom, desperately needing to pee and to compose myself. Once there, I go about my business and then spend a good fifteen minutes in front of the mirror, brushing my teeth and compulsively trying to control the wild mane of hair on my head. More than once I find myself needing to take a deep breath to calm down.

Just as I'm about to get ready to exit the bathroom, I feel a ghost of the pain from a few days ago, reminding me to take my pain meds. I gather the pills and swallow them with a gulp of water from the sink, hating the feeling of them as they slide down.

Finally, I have myself under enough control so that I feel like I'm able to face Carlisle. I timidly open the door and make my way to the kitchen, where I hear him washing the dishes.

"Hey," I say quietly, very aware that mere hours ago, I had sex with this god, who has prepared a very yummy looking breakfast.

"Oh, good morning." I wish I could see his face, but he's facing the sink, so I have no way to read his mood. His dark dress shirt hangs loosely on his shoulder, and I wonder if he has even buttoned one button. I try to not lose myself in the fine aspect of his butt in his slacks, but  _man, oh man…_

"I wasn't sure what you usually eat for breakfast," he says, barely glancing back at me, "but I hope you like pancakes." Finally, he fully looks at me, motioning with his head towards the kitchen table, and I see that he has not, in fact, buttoned his shirt. My eyes trail down his chest and abs, marveling at how perfect it seems. When I finally look back at his face, I notice his easy grin and it relaxes don't have to be awkward after all.

I sigh and kindly smile at him as I take a seat by the table. "Thank you."

He comes and sits opposite me, putting down two cups of steaming coffee next to our plates. Taking a sip, I make a face in disgust at the taste.

"Man, this stuff is weak!" I laugh, putting the cup far away from me. "How can you drink this?" I ask as I stand up to get a glass of milk. I seriously can't drink that stuff he calls coffee.

Carlisle laughs gently. "I'm sorry, but I don't drink a lot of coffee, so I guess I'm bound to be a lousy coffee maker."

I roll my eyes. "How is it that a doctor doesn't drink coffee? I thought you guys lived on nothing but caffeine to get you through those long shifts." I sit back down, putting the carton of milk on the table. He doesn't seems quite content with his coffee-water.

"I prefer to use natural methods to stay awake," he explains. "A short walk or jog during breaks, eating healthy, listening to upbeat music. There are a number of things you can do when you're starting to feel drowsy to help you stay awake. Then of course I try to get lots of rest when I'm not on duty."

Nodding, I listen to him list these things, all the while thinking that he's probably a health freak. I have nothing against health freaks, but I personally can't stay away from coffee and unhealthy foods. Of course I try to balance out my diet with some fruits and vegetables, so I should be getting all my vitamins and minerals, but I'm not one for calculating all that stuff.

We eat in comfortable silence, munching on the pancakes-which, sure enough, seem to be made with whole wheat flour. He must have found Kate's stash in one of the cupboards. She's the healthy one in this house.

I don't know what to think of Carlisle's making himself at home in my kitchen. Mostly it just feels weird. The pancakes don't taste bad at all, although I don't hesitate to add a river of maple syrup on them, effectively ruining anything remotely healthy about them. I cock my eyebrow at Carlisle's frown as he eyes my food.

"I know it's unhealthy, but I don't care!" I say defiantly. "It's Christmas vacation; I'm allowed to indulge myself." I cut up another piece and watch him swallow his bite. "You are allowed to relax sometimes, too, Carlisle," I add quietly before eating the small piece.

Carlisle doesn't answer, so we continue eating our pancakes until we finish everything on our plates. When we're done, we sit for a few minutes, the air suddenly heavy. It's time for us to talk about what happened last night. It probably wasn't the wisest decision to sleep together. And I for one would like to know if this is just a one-time thing or if he wants something more.

"So," I begin, awkwardly. I'm kinda hoping he'll lead this conversation, since he's the older, more experienced one. Or well, I'm assuming he has experience when it comes to the ladies—I mean, how could he not be, seeing as he's both wonderful and hot.

"About last night," Carlisle begins, and I'm suddenly scared about what he will say, so I cut him off. Yup, that's me, the walking contradiction.

"I know, last night was probably a mistake and really shouldn't happen again," I say lamely, looking down at the table in front of me. I start playing nervously with the frays of the place-mat.

"Well," he starts, but pauses. He takes a deep breath before starting again. "It probably was a mistake, but I don't regret it."

I'm surprised and quickly look back up at him. He isn't smiling or anything -– he kinda looks a bit troubled, like he's not totally comfortable.

"I feel the need to tell you that I'm not in a place to be in a serious relationship at the moment," he says slowly, looking me right in the eye as if he's trying to gauge my reaction.

I nod. "I know, I know. I'm not entirely certain I am, either," I agree, smiling sadly. God knows that I've been controlled by my emotions lately, so I should rather focus on finding someone who's good for me, rather than someone who I simply  _want_  to be good for me.

Carlisle's serious face slips back on. "Besides, it's not a good idea for us to be publicly together, since, after all, you were my patient, and people would judge the age difference between us."

Frustrated, I cut him off. "Yes, I know, Carlisle! I'm twenty-one, not twelve. I do realize all of this!"

There is tension in the air as my declaration sinks in. I think this is the first time we've actually acknowledged my age, and even though Carlisle hasn't mentioned his age before, I  _know_  he's quite a bit older than me.

Carlisle stares at me, his eyes boring into mine, his lips set into a tight line. Eventually, his façade breaks and he starts laughing. "I haven't been with a twenty-one-year-old since I was twenty-five," he explains.

I smirk. "Well,  _Dr. Cullen_ , exactly how old are you?"

He nervously rubs the back of his head before he answers slowly, "I'm… thirty-six…" He looks a bit embarrassed as he looks at me, probably trying to gauge my reaction.

 _Thirty-six minus twenty-one… He's fifteen years older than me,_  I mentally calculate. It's strange that even though normally the idea of a guy being so much older than me would totally turn me off, it really doesn't in this case. It turns me on even more than the image of him in scrubs and a doctor's coat. I don't know what it is about him, but he just turns me into a major pervert.

Unconsciously, I start biting my lip to hide the grin spreading from my slightly dirty thoughts. When Carlisle notices that, he gets a mischievous glint in his eyes, and my stomach flutters at what that might mean. His eyes focus on my lips and when he shifts in his seat, I just know that I need to feel him again.

Carlisle quickly stands up, smirking at me, although he looks slightly frightened. "We should finish talking," he playfully reminds me as he grabs the milk carton and walks with it to the fridge. I follow him with my eyes, and when I see that he's not coming back to the table, I decide to follow him.

"What is there to talk about?" I ask, smiling and slowly walking towards him. "We've both agreed that we're not ready for a relationship, but that doesn't mean we can't keep doing the dirty, right?" I don't know where I found my new seductive side, but I like it.

When I finally reach him, I slowly put my hand on his chest and start dragging it down. "It could be a Christmas thing," I suggest as my eyes scan his chest before moving up to meet his. The blue of his eyes is intense this close up and in daylight, and the way his eyes are slightly unfocused makes me think that he's actually just as willing as I am.

"A Christmas thing, huh?" he mutters, his eyes falling to my lips.

"Or, you know, whenever we're feeling lonely." I shrug. My hands descend lower and my fingers slip beneath the waistline of his pants.

"Mmm." His eyes close as I slowly release the button, pressing myself even more against him. "I think I like that idea," he whispers, his head dropping down so his cheek is gently touching mine. His breath heats up the skin of my neck, raising goosebumps on my skin.

I turn my head a little and as soon as my lips brush against Carlisle's, I feel his hands on my shoulders, one going into my hair while the other trails down my arm and falls to my hip. He opens his mouth and captures my lips, teasing and pulling. I drag down his zipper and stroke him through his boxers. At the motion, his hand tightens on my hip and in a swift move he turns us so that I am trapped between him and the kitchen counter.

The kisses become more heated, like he's trying to devour me, and I find myself leaning back as we can't both occupy the same space. His hand falls from the nape of my neck and grips my hip in a stronghold, before I suddenly feel myself being lifted onto the counter. I squeak in surprise, but he doesn't stop kissing me so the sound is lost in his mouth.

His hands quickly work their way up underneath my t-shirt, impatiently seeking out my breasts. Carlisle groans into my mouth at the feel of them bare, my nipples saluting his palms. I arch my back into his grip and decide I'm wearing too many clothes, so I reach down to pull up the hem of my shirt and drag it over my head, only momentarily breaking the lip-lock with Carlisle.

Once topless, my arms circle Carlisle's shoulders, dragging his body closer to mine. Our chests are flush together, and his hands move down to my butt and drag me to the edge of the counter. I can feel his erection rubbing between my thighs, and I moan in pleasure every time it brushes against my sensitive spot. The fact that he's still wearing his shirt while I'm topless makes me even more crazed with lust.

My hands drag down his body, quickly finding their way into his boxers and grabbing a hold on his dick. His hips shift at the contact and he groans into my mouth, his hands digging into my sweat pants, just above my butt.

"Take them off," I breathe, hoping he'll get that I'm referring to my pants. I want him, and I want him now! "Please!"

Carlisle's fingers grab the material and he swiftly manages to remove them, along with my panties, without breaking contact. My hands work furiously on his dick, marveling at the hardened flesh in my grip. The cold air of the kitchen feels soothing to my heated skin and I feel so alive, sitting buck naked on the counter, with a mostly clothed, modern day Adonis in my grasp.

Consumed with need, I scoot even closer to the edge, wanting to feel him inside me again. Instead, his fingers find their way to my opening. Even though it's not quite what I wanted, it's still a very delightful pleasure, so I'm not complaining.

I'm enraptured by the sensation of Carlisle's fingers, so I hardly notice when his lips move from my mouth and descend down the slope of my neck. He gently nibbles at the sensitive skin right above my collarbones, driving me insane with his teasing.

"Fuck, Carlisle, I need more!" I growl into his hair and he has the nerve to actually laugh at me, and he does nothing to meet my growing needs. In return, I quickly bend my head down to his shoulder and bite him,  _hard_.

"OW!" he shouts and jumps slightly away from me, although there's still a smile on his face and a mischievous glint in his eyes. "So you like it rough, huh," he says, cocking an eyebrow.

I just grin at him, pursing my lips a little. "I might," I answer vaguely, my teeth teasing my lower lip—my attempt at being seductive.

His eyes are glued to my mouth as my tongue darts out to slowly lick them. "I can give you rough," he mutters as he slowly walks towards me. I can't help the giggles that escape me as I start a staring match with him, daring him to prove it.

I spread my legs wide to accommodate him as he closes the gap between us. He steps between them, putting his hands on the counter on either side of me. His face is inches away from mine, and I'm two seconds away from dehydrating from excessive drooling, when he whispers, "Are you ready?"

Stuck in a trance, every nerve ending set on hyper-sensitive and my heart beating a thousand beats a minute, I nod slowly. I am  _so_  ready, I wouldn't be surprised if I was actually sitting in a puddle. He shifts his hips a little, and I can feel his dick brushing against my thighs, and I swear, my pussy is about to burst in anticipation.

Suddenly, Carlisle's mouth captures mine again, more greedy than I've ever felt before. Automatically, my hands go around his shoulders, clutching him to me, and his hands grip my hips tightly, dragging them closer to him. His dick slides against my folds and I squirm in pleasure. I have no control over the beast I've invoked; I am utterly at his mercy.

He thrusts himself against me again, roughly, creating delicious friction between my thighs. I don't know if he's actually just this skillful, or if it's by pure chance, but when he goes in for his third thrust, his dick successfully slides into me, and I gasp, both in pleasure and surprise.

"Holy fuck," I breathe as he slams into me again, making me bounce on the counter top. My arms cling to him more tightly, as I fleetingly remember that I might bang my head against something, and that would hurt. My head falls onto his shoulder and I moan into his shirt, only wondering for a second why he's still wearing it.

His thrusts are relentless, hard and thorough. Every single time, he hits that special spot and I'm afraid I will die from bliss when I finally orgasm. I try to hold it out, wanting this delightful romp to last, but it can hardly be more than two minutes before I scream at everything that is holy and convulse around him.

But Carlisle isn't finished.

He continues to pound into me, and even though at first it feels like I'm overdosing on pleasure, as I'm hyper sensitive, I slowly start to feel the tension building up again. My moans and screams grow louder, and I marvel at how he can stay so quiet, with nothing but occasional grunts when he's feeling particularly good.

Soon, I can tell he's not far from his release, and I start nibbling at his neck, knowing that he is a fan of that. My own climax—the second one, if anyone is keeping count—is building up, but it comes sooner than I expected, and I bite Carlisle's neck in surprise. I just hope that he won't think biting is a fetish of mine, since this is the second time today that I bite him.

Carlisle growls in response and with one more powerful thrust, he tenses up and moans. "Oh... God... Bella..." he whispers as he spasms, his head falling onto my shoulder.

We cling to each other as we both calm down from our excitement. My muscles are aching and I'm glad I'm sitting down, because I'm pretty sure my legs have stopped working. The feel of Carlisle's warm and sweaty skin flush against mine is comforting in a way I can't really explain.

Eventually, I feel Carlisle turning his head, planting a soft kiss on my neck, making my skin break out in goosebumps again. He then extracts himself from me and removes his shirt, wrapping it around me instead. It's only then that I realize how cold it actually is in the kitchen.

The look on Carlisle's face as he buttons up the shirt is slightly troubled and I wonder what he's thinking. His brow is creased, and his normally neatly combed hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead. I raise my hand to swipe it back and he visibly relaxes at the gesture.

"I think I need a shower," he says quietly, his eyes looking up as if to point at his hair.

"Yeah, I think I need one too." I laugh lightly as he helps me down from the counter top. He adjusts his pants, as they had never really been removed and had only been resting around his knees.

"I also need clean clothes, so I'm going to head home for a bit," he explains. At first it feels like he's running home after a romp, but the last three words make me smile.

"So you'll be back?" I ask, probably gleaming like a kid who has a chance of getting dessert.

Carlisle laughs. "I can come back if you want me to."

Something about the way he says this makes me feel like a child again, and not in a good way. Sometimes it just feels like he's not really talking to me like an equal. I follow him nonetheless to the front door, trying not to show how his tone of voice affected me.

It isn't until he's zipping up is brown leather jacket that I notice his bare chest.

"Wait, don't you need your shirt?" I ask and start to unbutton it.

He halts my movements. "It's fine," he assures me, before adding, "Besides, I think it fits you better than me." Carlisle smiles and winks. I automatically look down to see for myself, and I think he must be joking, since the shirt is all kinds of loose, the sleeves are longer than my arms, and the hem reaches my upper thighs.

"I'll be back later," Carlisle starts as he grabs my arm and leans in for a quick kiss. I'm glad that our interaction seems so easy, because I'm pretty sure that if he hadn't taken initiative like that, we would be staring awkwardly at each other, wondering how we should say goodbye. What can I say? I'm the queen of awkward.

"And I'll bring dinner," he adds before opening the door. He flashes me his charming grin one last time, and then turns and walks down the hallway.

I close the door and the scent of the shirt hits my senses, and I giddily bring the material up to my face and bury my nose in it. I am a sucker for the good, manly smell, so I stand there for a few minutes, breathing in the sex god that just left my apartment.

* * *

 

_**Later that week—New Year's Eve** _

Carlisle has spent every night since Saturday at my apartment, only leaving when I go to work. We tried to go out among the public on Monday, after I finished my shift at the bookstore, but it felt extremely uncomfortable. I felt like everyone was criticizing us, judging the young plain girl stepping out of the expensive Mercedes with an older guy. I don't think Carlisle felt comfortable either, since I felt him tense up a couple of times. He actually let go of my hand once as if he had been touched by fire. I believe it was because he saw one of the nurses from the hospital. I can't say that that didn't hurt just the tiniest bit.

Needless to say, we didn't spend a lot of time outside of the apartment after that.

Carlisle left in the early hours yesterday morning, as he had to get ready for his four days of long shifts and being on call. Those are four days with no getting together for a quick hump. I offered to come by the hospital to get better acquainted with the on-call room, but he didn't take well to that idea.

We didn't talk about how we'd proceed with our quasi relationship now that Alice and Kate are home, and I have a gnawing feeling in my stomach telling me that things have been left a bit up in the air. We had talked about making this a Christmas fling, with possibilities of this continuing in private, but that's going to be more difficult with the girls around.

Maybe after a few days apart, we'll see things more clearly. So far I haven't exactly missed Carlisle, but that might be because the girls and I have been catching up. Also, Edward showed up last night for dinner and movie night with us and spent most of the night annoying Alice. Apparently, spending almost two weeks in Chicago with her brother was not Alice's idea of a good time. It's weird, because I'm pretty sure it was she who invited Edward to dinner in the first place.

"Bella? Who's shirt is this?" Kate's voice trails from the bathroom, where she's folding laundry in preparation for tonight's party.

I freeze, a wave of panic rippling through me, since there is no doubt in my mind as to what shirt she's referring. The thing is, I haven't exactly told her about my little Christmas adventure. I mean, I haven't even told her about my Thanksgiving mistake, and this is a little bigger than an unsuccessful come-on while under the influence. Also, I'm not entirely sure how she would take the news. She could either cheer for my success, cringe at the perverseness of the age difference, or endlessly make fun of me for bagging Dr. McSteamy. I am leaning towards the last option with a hint of the first, but I don't really like any of the options.

"Um, it's mine," I offer in what I'm hoping is a normal voice, though I think it came out more as a question.

"But it's a man's shirt," she points out. "Why would you have a man's shirt?"

I step out of my bedroom and into the bathroom, where Kate's inspecting every inch of the dark blue material, as if it contained vital clues of its owner. "Um, I like the way it looks?" _I am such a lousy liar._

"Bella, did you have a man over for Christmas?" Kate asks slowly, like she's talking to a child who's just done something bad.

My face starts to burn, but I try to look offended by the question. "No!" I reach out for the shirt and grab it from her grasp, hugging it close to my body. I turn around, preparing to leave again, but Kate speaks up again.

"You can lie to me all you want, but you know I'll get it out of you eventually," she says matter-of-factly, and I know that she's right. It's like a superpower of hers; she'll tell me that she's willing to wait, and then the need to tell her just starts to build, until finally I'm not able to keep it in any longer. She's also an expert at knowing when it's time for me to start talking, so she waits for the perfect moment to say this to me.

The fact that she thinks I'm ready to talk soon bothers me slightly, because I feel better now than I did after the Thanksgiving debacle, and yet she didn't push me then.

I sit down on my bed, looking at the blue shirt in my hands. Could it be that I'm setting myself up for a heartbreak if I continue this path with Carlisle? We are clearly just a fling, at least at the moment, but I have a nagging feeling that continuing it would probably end in disaster. One of us might end up getting too involved – most likely me, since I've been all kinds of emotional lately – and I'm all for keeping things simple. So in the name of simplicity, it would probably be smart to quit this while we're ahead.

Besides, I probably should be looking at guys my own age. Maybe I shouldn't be looking at all. They say that as soon as you stop looking, you find what you're looking for. And who knows, maybe the thing I'm looking for is right under my nose.


	12. The Boy From Chicago

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on SiK: Bella and Carlisle discuss their relationship, if a relationship can be called. They agree they don't want anything serious but are keeping options open. When Kate and Alice return to Seattle, Kate gets suspicious, but Bella doesn't want to talk.
> 
> This is the first of two chapters narrated by Edward.

 

_**\- As told from Edward's point of view -** _

_Your comebacks, they're quick_

_And probably have to do with your insecurities_

_There's no shame in being crazy,_

_Depending on how you take these_

_Words I'm paraphrasing this relationship we're staging._

_\- 'A Beautiful Mess', Jason Mraz_

_**New Year's Eve** _

As much as I enjoyed my mom's cooking and pampering, not to mention getting a break from my studies, I have to admit that I love being back in Seattle. It's almost like being able to breathe after holding your breath for as long as you can. As soon as I landed, I felt myself relax, and something within me felt lighter. Though I can't pinpoint exactly why I feel more at ease here, I have a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with Bella.

_My bewitching brunette._

There's no other word more fitting for her than bewitching. I'm almost certain she put a spell on me back when we first met. The interaction between the two of us left such an impression on me that I found myself constantly thinking about her afterwards. I was so affected by her I found myself forced to break up with my girlfriends, because I simply could not imagine staying in a relationship with a girl I did not want. And I no longer wanted any of them.

I know having multiple girlfriends is something people frown upon. They immediately think I'm a player, but honestly, I don't think I am. Or was... I'm definitely not anymore. I treated all my girlfriends with respect and honesty, and I told them up front that I wasn't looking for anything serious – hence why I wasn't tying myself to any one girl. I've stayed away from girls since September, with the exception of Bella, my sister and their roommate. At first I even stayed away from them. I couldn't handle whatever it was going on in my head, with different thoughts pulling me in different directions.

I wanted to run. I wanted to resist this pull tugging on my insides, and I wanted to bury myself in the willing hands of my girlfriends, but it felt wrong. Then, once I had broken up with Tanya, Irina and Bree — some of whom took it worse than the others — I wanted to search for that mysterious drunk girl from  _Passion_. So I found her favorite spots around campus and I watched her from afar. I didn't dare go up to her and beg for her name; I didn't even try to search for information about her, and I didn't go drive around her neighborhood to search for her when I realized I'd forgotten her address.

I wanted her, but I was terrified of what that meant, so I kept my distance.

To say I was shocked to see Bella at Alice's party would be an understatement. It wasn't until later I learned that Alice actually lived with my brunette.

I hadn't been having any fun at that party. Usually I would be at such a gathering with one of my girlfriends, but seeing as I'd broken up with all of them, I attended alone. Alice promised me she would find a girl for me, mentioning something about a pretty roommate who needed some company.

After sulking for hours, Alice wanted to show me around the apartment. I wasn't very interested to be honest, especially since Alice's flair for decorations never changes. But then we passed one of the rooms, and she was just going to peek inside to see if Bella was there, but the waft of smell carrying out of the room drew me in, its familiarity haunting my senses. I didn't even listen to Alice's warnings that Bella probably didn't want any strangers in her room — I just barreled right inside.

Being in her room did something strange to me. The atmosphere held me captivated, and in a trance, I walked over to her bed and sat down, taking everything in. She had a queen size bed, decorated with a quilt that looked like it was kind of old, since some of the seams were starting to give. It was dark, but I noticed her walls had a purple hue, and her desk and dresser were made of dark wood. Again, they looked faded and it made me wonder if she'd inherited them.

There was a large bookshelf fitted into one of the corners, filled with school books, classics, children's books... She probably had something from all genres. Some looked like they were brand new, while others looked old and tattered.

I didn't see many pictures—mostly ones of two girls, probably her friends, and a vaguely familiar girl, standing with a dark-haired burly boy, donning his football gear. It looked like your classic high school team sports shot. Another picture sitting on top of her dresser was of a grown, dark haired man with a mustache.

The whole atmosphere made such a lasting impression in my mind; it's still hard to get it out. I think it was the perfume of the room that warmed my heart, and once again I was filled with this strange feeling of wanting something. Something just out of my reach.

Alice seemed to have noticed my agitation and came to sit by me on the bed. She asked me what was wrong, in her usual sisterly confrontation, although she was uncharacteristically quiet.

I gave her the honest answer: I didn't know. I told her how something felt weird. How I was hung up on this girl, this brunette I had mentioned on many previous occasions. How I felt she was everywhere, even when I wasn't looking, and everything reminded me of her. How I was slowly going insane because I didn't know why. And how ridiculous it was, because after all, I didn't even know her name!

She said something about her name being Bella, and I snapped at her, because she wasn't getting it. I wasn't just talking about the owner of the room. It was that girl I'd seen at the club. The one who made my head spin the more I thought of her. I told Alice how I wanted to get to know her, but I was terrified of approaching her.

Alice tried to soothe me as I paced the floor, but it wasn't working, so I told her I needed to go out and get some air.

That's when I saw her. My brown-haired siren.

If there ever was a moment to use the expression "like a deer caught in headlights," that would have been it. She looked shocked to see me, just as I was to see her.

I took this as a sign and decided to ask her out, but just as suddenly as she had appeared, she got a look of hurt in her eyes as they darted to the room behind me. Before I realized what was happening, she vanished into the bathroom opposite the bedroom.

I couldn't figure out what had occurred, or why she had looked so crushed. I tried knocking on the bathroom door, but I didn't know what to say. I would have started with her name, but I didn't know it. I gave up.

I don't know why I was suddenly so afraid of pursuing a girl. It had never been a problem for me before. Usually, the flirty side of me came naturally. And it had come naturally with Bella that first night at the club, but somehow the idea of wanting her as badly as I did seemed to scare the living crap out of me. It rendered me into a bumbling and flustered idiot.

She had been drunk at the club, but I still found her flirty side endearing. She seemed so unaware of her own allure, and even though she was swaying in her intoxication, she still seemed to be watching out for not behaving too inappropriately, like when she fixed her clothes, and she switched to water when she felt she'd had enough.

The stark contrast between Bella and the girls who accosted me outside the ladies' room at  _Passion_  was amazing. The girls had pushed out their chests or butts and sucked in their bellies, trying to impress me with the enunciated cleavage or flat stomachs. They weren't afraid of touching me, showing me their fake nails and caked make-up, but when Bella walked out, she looked so fresh.

That day after Thanksgiving, when I finally found out that Bella was indeed my brunette, I tried to fall back into my old habits and be charming. Well, that didn't work. I hadn't expected her to answer back. It was both endearing and incredibly frustrating at the same time.

It took me quite a while to get back from that bruise to my ego. It didn't help that Bella was being a complete bitch to me. Many times I thought of distancing myself and giving up, but Alice always managed to convince me not to. She explained to me that Bella was having a rough time and that she just needed the right push to get out of her funk. She even resorted to lure me home with her several times, although I never really put up much of a protest.

I felt at ease when I was close to Bella. Despite being a nervous wreck when we were alone, I felt comfortable whenever she was close by. That scared me more than I cared to admit.

When I finally mustered up the courage to ask her out, and she said yes, I got such a rush of hope that it felt like that whatever it was I was scared of was a moot point. That day was the day I decided I was going to get her, however long it took me.

The date itself had been a success. Bella seemed to be in a better mood for the most part, and even though I had desperately wanted to dance with her, to feel her body flush against mine, I decided not to push when she so adamantly refused. It was clear to me that she needed space if I wanted her not to hate me. I knew from Alice that she'd been going through some stuff, and the sadness in her voice as she talked about her father told me that she wasn't done grieving. I could tell that she felt detached from her family. I've only taken one psych class, but it seems to me she was carefully pushing people away and refusing to let anyone really see her. Even Alice hasn't been able to worm herself properly into her heart, and she is the most lovable person I know.

I knew that if I wanted to get close to her, it would have to be on her terms. So I backed off, opting to be her friend until she was ready for more.

This laid back approach to gaining her affection has led me to texting her almost daily. I just want to know that she's doing okay. I don't like the idea of her being in Seattle alone, but it seems that she's been burying herself in work, so she's been distracted.

When I saw her again last night, when I had been invited for dinner and movies, it took all my strength not to hug her in greeting. I wanted to touch her, hold her hand, stroke her hair... Yeah, I'm definitely turning into a girl.

Of course I couldn't resist for too long, sneaking in small touches while reaching for popcorn "accidentally" at the same time as she did. I helped her spread a blanket over herself, since she had managed to get it all up in tangles, and subtly wormed myself underneath it. I made sure I wasn't touching her, but I was very aware of the skin of her thigh being  _very_ close to my fingers.

I've been waiting for the right time to make my feelings clear, and seeing Bella as content as she was last night makes me think that maybe the right time is just around the corner.

Who knows, maybe I'll even get to kiss her at midnight?

Which brings me here, standing outside Bella and Alice's apartment, nervous as hell, almost ready to face a room full of strangers and friends and most likely watching Bella be hit on left and right. Of course I don't really know anything about Bella's love life, but she is one of those girls who ensnares the surrounding males without even realizing it. She is the effortless beauty.

My knuckles have hardly touched the door before it is flung open, and Bella jumps into my arms. The act alone is surprising enough, but the fact that it's Bella who's clutching onto me makes it all the more surprising. It is definitely a pleasant surprise, that is for sure.

"Edward!" she shrieks into my ear and for a second I wonder if it will render me deaf on one side. "You're here!" She sighs before letting go of me, her lingering scent making me dizzy.

"You're drunk," I state, her drowsy eyes a clear indicator of that.

"What? Noooo," she scoffs, waving her hand like she is trying to push the idea away. She grabs my hand, her warm skin sending tingles up my arm, and drags me into the apartment. "Everyone's waiting for you!" she says loudly, pulling on my arm.

I almost reluctantly follow her into the living room, mumbling, "I doubt that," under my breath. She doesn't notice and continues to barrel forward, dragging me to a group of people, some of whom I've seen before, but I don't know any of their names.

"Edward, this is Rosalie," Bella says, gesturing to a tall blonde girl in a short, tight dress. "She's Emmett's girlfriend," she continues, gesturing to the broad-shouldered man standing next to the blonde, "who's my ex-boyfriend!" She giggles, a gleam appearing in her eyes, which doesn't make me feel the least bit better about my prospects.

"And this one," she continues, tapping a lanky blond guy on the chest, "is my cousin, Jasper, and he's also Rosalie's second cousin and Alice's boyfriend, or I think he's her boyfriend... Are you her boyfriend, Jasper? Or is it still a secret?" Just as she finishes the last word, her eyes go wide and she claps a hand over her mouth.

Bella's ex – Emmett – whips his head around to look at Jasper, who looks like he's just about ready for the earth to swallow him whole.

The overprotective brother side of me makes an appearance as my eyes involuntarily narrow at him and I look him over, trying to get a read on him. He looks thoroughly embarrassed at this proclamation, but I have a feeling it's more because Bella spilled his secret than that he's dating my baby sister.

Bella, however, is quick to remedy that.

"Sorry Jasper! I totally didn't mean to rat you out to her brother!"

A sheen of white replaces the flushed color of Jasper's face, his eyes darting to me in question. I only arch my eyebrow at him, daring him to defend himself.

"You're Edward?" he almost whispers.

"I am," I answer calmly, because really, I'm mostly acting this way because I enjoy seeing this guy squirm. I know full well that Alice is old enough to take care of herself, and the biggest reason for our current friendship is because we don't meddle unless asked. Although, it's more difficult for her to go by that rule than it is for me.

"I... well... you..." Jasper gulps. "I've gotta go now," he finally mumbles before scampering off, presumably to go find my sister.

As soon as he's out of hearing distance, the big guy lets out this giant laughter, keeling over and slapping his knee in mirth, while his gorgeous girlfriend clasps her sides, chortling under her breath. I can't help a chuckle or two, but Bella just stands there, still looking horrified, constantly looking over her shoulder, probably to see if Jasper is coming back.

"Damn, do you think they'll ever forgive me?" she whispers to us, seemingly oblivious to our laughter.

I raise my hand, going for a comforting backstroke, but decide that that's too forward, so I end up scratching my head instead. Looking away from Bella, I glance at Rosalie, only to see her eyebrow raised at me, clearly trying to figure me out. The calculating gaze makes me feel uncomfortable, and I'm relieved when she looks at Bella instead.

"Nah, you're fine, Bella. I don't even know why they're keeping it a secret in the first place," Rosalie says. "I mean, everyone already knows that something's going on, why not make it public? It's stupid, really." She shrugs, smiling, and takes a sip of her bottled Bud Light.

Emmett looks at Rosalie in surprise. "You knew? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you'd enjoy it much better if you found out this way, sweetie," she answers as she lovingly strokes his back. The comfortable gesture makes me think of how they have what I want with Bella, and my eyes are once again drawn to her.

Bella is looking at the two lovebirds, a small smile teasing her lips, but there also appears to be something broken in her eyes. It's the same look I've seen a few times before, but it's hard to figure out what exactly it is. Sometimes it's when she talks about her father, sometimes when talking about relationships and sometimes when remembering old times. It makes me feel like she's wishing for something she once had, and without it she's lost. It's during those looks when it's the hardest for me not to envelop her in a hug and comfort her sorrows away.

This time I don't have to resist, since she seeks me out on her own, snaking her arms around my body, and I feel her struggle not to go further. My arm settles around her, and I feel complete.

The only thing ruining this moment is the fact that Bella is drunk. Her intoxication means that there is no way for me to know if it's something she would do when sober — if she's clinging to me because I'm me or because I'm here.

Again, Rosalie looks over at me, and her eyebrow arches again. I feel like she's mocking me, silently asking if I'm man enough not to take advantage of her. It's like an unspoken dare. I don't know what the deal is with Rosalie and Bella, if they're friends or what, but it seems like she is ready to shoot down any guy who might mistreat Bella. I for one don't want to be the one to discover if that's true or not.

Suddenly, Bella goes rigid beside me, and soon she's extracting herself from me, looking slightly embarrassed.

"I've got to go get a refill," she says and then disappears. I want to tell her that she clearly doesn't need more drinks, but it looks like she's escaping. Whether it's me she's escaping, or if it's just escaping life, I don't know.

As soon as she's out of earshot, Rosalie steps closer to me, her face edged with seriousness.

"What exactly are you doing with Bella?" she asks, and I eye Emmett, just to look somewhere else than in her frightening eyes. He seems just as confused as I am.

"I'm... her friend?" I don't like how this becomes more of a question than statement, but to be honest, I'm not quite sure what I'm doing with Bella. Her whole behavior tonight has made it difficult for me to figure whether I'm moving out of the friend zone or not.

Rosalie doesn't have to say anything to call me out on my shit, she just gives me one look, and I sigh in defeat. "I don't know, alright! I'm trying to be more than friends, but come on, it's enough to look at the girl to see that she's a mess, and I think I need to be careful, you know?"

She gazes at me, her eyes boring into my mind, and I feel exposed. I wonder if she can actually read my mind, because it sure as hell feels like she can. The blue of her eyes seems almost electric, and I refrain from looking away, not wanting to seem weak. I'm already portraying signals of weakness for simply being so utterly head over heels for a girl who seems entirely unavailable.

Finally, Rosalie nods as if she's satisfied with my answer. "Alright. But know that I will castrate you if you do anything to hurt her," she warns, narrowing her eyes at me.

I look again at Emmett, wondering if the two of them are posing as a united front, but he still looks puzzled.

"I won't hurt her," I say quietly as I look back at her.

She nods again, stepping back to stand beside her boyfriend.

"What's it to you, anyway?" I ask, curious as to why she's so protective over Bella.

Rosalie shrugs. "I just care, okay? I've seen girls like her being taken advantage of, and I don't want it happening to her."

Emmett's arm clasps Rosalie's shoulders, rubbing gently up and down her arm, a look of awe in his eyes as he gazes down at her.

"I think she's tougher than you think," I say, although I'm a bit wary that I might set her off again. Then I realize that I'm being a bit of a hypocrite, since I've been tiptoeing around Bella myself. But at this moment, I truly believe that Bella is stronger than what we give her credit for.

Rosalie's eyes narrow only for a second before she relaxes again and leans into Emmett. "I know, but it's good that she has someone looking out for her."

I wonder if she's talking about herself or me. I also can't help but wonder at how much she has been looking out for her, and how long they've known each other.

Emmett still looks a bit confused, but it doesn't seem to plague him that he doesn't know what's going on. He takes another sip out of his beer bottle, a small smile playing on his lips, still stroking Rosalie's arm every now and again.

* * *

 

I decide to be sober this evening, since I have no real reason to drink, and the three inhabitants of this apartment seem to be getting drunk as skunks. It's not even midnight and they have already had various incidences with dancing on tables and spilling the dip.

The dancing on top of the coffee table was kind of fun, though. It started with Kate, as she wanted to announce that the special New Year's Eve cocktail was ready to be served, and then some song started playing on the sound system and she started dancing. Not two beats into the song, she spotted Bella close to her – I think she was trying to get Kate off the table — and dragged her up to dance.

That's when it started to get hot.

The two girls were grinding and shaking their asses and rubbing up against each other, and I think pretty much every guy in the vicinity was enjoying the impromptu show. Hell, I had trouble controlling the little problem starting below the waist. I wondered if the girls wouldn't regret it in the morning, so I debated whether I should sit back and enjoy the show or if I should get them down and save them from further embarrassment.

Then Alice was dragged into this and I was no longer amused. There was no way I was going sit back and watch my little sister being ogled, much less watch her be all seductive. So I barreled through the crowd of cheering guys and begged the girls to come down. Thankfully it didn't take much persuasion and they all stepped down, giggling like little school girls.

I've been staying close to Bella all evening since she seems hell bent on getting alcohol poisoning. There's not much I can do about her decision, but I've been spiking her drinks with sodas or orange juice to dilute the alcohol levels. I'm also doing my best to make sure she keeps her clothes on.

It's all very backwards.

She's wearing a rather short skirt, and while I really like the way she looks in it, she's very clumsy and she's been flashing people left and right. Everyone has been talking about her bright blue  _Wonder Woman_  underwear. It's insanely hot, and most have acknowledged that.

Everyone is huddled around the TV in the living room, watching the ball drop in Times Square. People are coupling up, hugging their loved ones or timidly approaching the ones they want to kiss for midnight.

My eyes seek out Bella's form in the corner as she's clutching Kate, gently laughing at something. Her gaze darts around the room, and even though she's smiling and her eyes are kind of droopy, there's a definite sadness hiding behind them. She's calmer than she's been all evening, and I relax, thinking that maybe she's going to lay off the alcohol for the rest of the night.

I wonder if I should make my way over to her, maybe try to steal her midnight kiss. I grab a glass of water and head over to the two girls, offering it to Bella as I sit next to her. I don't know what to say to her, so I say nothing.

"Thanks," she says quietly before taking a sip. After the first small taste, she starts gulping it down, as if she's been stuck in a desert and this is the first time in days she's had the opportunity to drink anything.

She lazily wipes her mouth with the back of her hand as she hands the glass back to me. "Thank you," she says again, her eyes meeting mine and a small smile is playing on her lips.

I nod in response, smiling back at her. It's like I've lost my voice. It might be nerves or something, since midnight is fast approaching and every fiber of my being wants to kiss this girl beside me.

"Damn it, Bella, I have no one to kiss at midnight!" Kate huffs, reminding me of her presence.

"Don't worry, honey, I can kiss you," Bella offers sweetly, winking at Kate. Kate smiles in response, giving her a hug, and my mind fills with images of the two of them kissing. Instantly, I slouch in my seat, resting my elbows on my knees so people won't notice the tightening of my jeans.

_Ten... nine... eight..._

People start chanting around us, counting down the seconds before midnight. I look around and see that several people have jumped the gun and started kissing already, including my sister and Jasper.

_Seven..._

I guess they decided they didn't need to keep things a secret anymore.

_Six... five... four..._

I try to be calm but my head is buzzing, since I'm so close to Bella, but I can't figure out how to kiss her. I want to grab her hands and her waist and wrap her legs around me and be lost in her body, but I can't just do that. I have to be calm and make her come to me.

_Three... two... one..._

I look up at Bella to see her and Kate smiling at each other. "Happy New Year," they say and start approaching each other. I feel strange, since I both want Bella to kiss me and I kind of want to watch two hot girls make out.

I'm disappointed on both accounts, since all they do is a light peck on the lips. But the moment is over and I breathe out in embarrassment over my own thoughts, looking around the room to hide it.

"Hey." Bella's voice is gentle as her hand grabs my arm. "You didn't kiss anyone at midnight," she states, slurring.

"No, I didn't." I look back at her. Her eyes are glazed over, but she's smiling at me.

"Why not?"

"I had no one to kiss," I admit, holding her gaze. I feel like we're having an intense moment, but a part of me is scared that it's not as intense for her.

She closes her eyes and looks like she's about to fall asleep, but she surprises me by reaching her hands around my neck and finding my mouth with hers. Her lips are warm and sticky, and at first it feels like she is only going for a quick peck, similar to the friendly kiss she gave Kate. My hands find place on her hip and just as she extracts herself, I feel her mood change, and suddenly her tongue is in my mouth.

I know I should probably stop her, but the feel of her pressing against me is just so good. I want her in my arms and in my bed, and I want to taste her every day. Tonight she tastes of mint and sugary cocktails, and I want to know how she tastes tomorrow.

Eventually, she withdraws, and her fingers gently brush over her swollen lips. She looks like she's confused and lost again, and she doesn't even speak before she darts away, disappearing through the crowded living room.

It's just another reminder that she's not ready.

Frustrated, I run my hand through my hair, trying to convince the strange tugging in my stomach that the battle isn't lost, and the fact that she kissed me clearly shows that she's interested.

Someone sits next to me in the space just occupied by Bella.

"She really likes you," Kate says. "She would have pushed you away a long time ago if she didn't."

I just look at her. It seems like everyone is going to give me advice on how to handle Bella.

"And really, she was infatuated with you a few months back," she continues, but then her voice turns colder. "But when you boned that girl in her bedroom at Halloween, it broke something in her." Her hard eyes narrow at me, and I'm suddenly tired of these girls thinking I've either done or am going to do something wrong.

"What the fuck?" I snap. "I didn't 'bone' anyone at that party. In fact, I haven't 'boned' anyone since I met her!" I struggle to keep my voice down. "Why does everyone always think I'm the one going to push her over the edge? I've been fucking watching my every step these past months, and I intend to do so until she realizes that I'm here, waiting for her to wake up from whatever daze she's in! I don't need you or Alice or Rosalie to tell me how I need to watch myself!"

I stand up, intending to walk away, but Kate jumps up and halts my movements. "Wait a minute! First of all, what does Rosalie have to do with anything?" she asks surprised, her voice rising.

"She gave me some speech about how I need to watch myself, earlier tonight," I admit, huffing in irritation.

"Hmm, that's odd..." Kate replies, clearly thinking over that piece of information. Then her eyes snap back to focus on me. "Alright, what's this then about Bella's room at the Halloween party? Bella said she heard a woman's voice coming from inside the room, she was sure you'd been having sex!" She's looking a bit less angry and more like she's trying to figure things out.

"It must have been Alice, then. She's the one who was with me in there. Why is it such a big deal?"

Kate is silent for a minute and just looks at me. Her mouth his set in a straight line, and even though she's swaying a bit, she looks like she's not too drunk.

"She locked herself in the bathroom..." she finally says, and I nod.

"I know."

"Yeah, well, she stayed there for hours, because she thought you had been having sex in her room with some random skank. I don't know why she came to that conclusion, but she did, and she spent the night crying. After that she's been a bit... fragile."

I take a deep breath and let it out in a long exhale while rubbing my face, taking in all the information. "So, basically, it's my own fault that I'm walking around on eggshells around her," I conclude.

Kate frowns. "Maybe not your fault entirely, since Bella can sometimes be quick to jump to conclusions. But since then, she's become more of a recluse and she refuses to confide in me or Angela or Alice." After a pause, she opens her mouth like she wants to say something, but obviously decides against it and closes it again.

"Just hang in there," she says eventually. "I think it will be worth it... for the both of you."

I nod, not really knowing how to respond. The whole "talking about your feelings" thing isn't really my forte, and it's making me a little bit uncomfortable.

"I think I'm going to get me something to drink," I say, giving her a courteous smile and a nod before I walk away.

When I reach the drinks table, I see Bella downing two shots of tequila. Her eyes scrunch up as she sucks on a lemon wedge, and she shakes her head. When she relaxes again, she reaches for the tequila bottle, but before she can fill the two shot glasses again, I gently grab it from her.

"I think you've had more than enough," I point out as I put the bottle aside. "You should have a drink of water or something, to balance out the Cuervo." I grab a solo cup, fill it with water and ice cubes and hand it to her. She accepts it, but she doesn't drink. She just looks at me, and I can't make out the expression on her face. It is almost like she is trying to make up her mind about something.

I wonder if I will ever be able to get a good read on this girl.

Eventually, her eyes droop and she grins at me. She is swaying so much that I find myself grabbing her so she won't fall over, but she doesn't seem to notice.

"I think it's time for you to go to bed," I mutter as I steady the cup in her hands.

Bella gulps and nods, leaning into me. "Yeah," she sighs. "I'm really tired."

"You really should drink some water, though," I urge, and she lets out a small "oh" before chugging down the cup's contents.

A small burp escapes her when she's done and she hands me the cup. "Thank you, Edward," she slurs, lazily patting me on the cheek.

"No problem," I mutter as I dispose of the cup and focus on walking with her to her bedroom. We meet a rather ruffled-looking couple in the hallway, and I'm sure that the satisfied grin on their faces means that they were getting busy somewhere. I just hope for Bella's sake it wasn't in her bedroom.

"You are always so good to me, Edward," Bella drawls as we enter her room. "Always around, taking care of me..." She giggles when I make her sit on the bed, and she flops down to lie on her back. "I'm  _really_  tired, but I don't want to go to bed..."

I look at her limp form on the bed, and she looks so inviting. It would be so easy to crawl up her body and devour her. Her skirt covers very little when she's lying like that, and my eyes are focused on the creamy skin of her upper thighs, just beneath the hem.

I groan and shift a little. I wonder if I should just leave her like that or if I should help her change out of her alcohol stained party clothes. I guess I could ask Kate or Alice to help her...

Apparently, I don't have to decide. Bella's hands start fumbling with the belt buckle of her skirt and I watch her shimmy out of it. I'm completely panicking, since I really shouldn't watch her strip like that, but I can't tear my eyes away. Then suddenly she sits up and kneels on the bed, looking me right in the eye with a devilish smile playing on her lips as she reaches down and pulls up her top, revealing a bright blue lace bra, matching her underwear only in color.

"I should go..." I mutter, but I can't move.

Bella stands up in the bed, stumbling only a little, and she motions for me to approach her. In a daze, I oblige.

Her hands clasp my shoulders and she looks down at me as I struggle to look back at her and not at her chest, which is lined up with my face. She leans in, coming nose to nose with me, a faint scent of tequila washing over my face.

"I want you, Edward," she says, her glazed eyes boring into mine.

My insides battle between doing the right thing or the thing I've wanted to do for months. I can either take advantage of her inebriated state, or I can deny her and hope she won't remember in the morning.


	13. The Inner Ramblings of a Confused Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on SiK: The girls threw a NYE party and got drunk. Edward (who was narrating) looked out for Bella and was confronted by her friends a couple of times. Turns out Bella is the brunette he's been obsessing about, and he didn't have sex in Bella's bedroom. Bella and Edward kissed at midnight, and she practically got naked in front of him, begging him to stay the night. Here is where you find out if he did or didn't.

_**\- As told from Bella's POV -** _

You'll fall asleep and I'll put a spell on you.

And when I wake you,

I'll be the first thing you see,

And you'll realize that you love me.

_\- 'Strange and Beautiful' - Aqualung_

_**New Year's Day** _

_Big, mental mother-fucking-groan._

I shift in my bed, desperately trying to avoid the hellish sunlight trying to kill me with its rays. My brain feels like it's pounding into my skull and my stomach feels heavy and twisted. More than anything, I want to throw up, but I know the need isn't there. Not yet, anyway.

I open one eye, squinting in discomfort, and glance at the alarm clock on my bedside table. It shows that it's just past nine in the morning, but my mind refuses to comprehend what the last two numbers mean, so I'm not exactly sure what time it is. It could be ten minutes to ten, or it could be ten minutes past nine. Either way, it's much too early for me to be up, in my opinion.

Groaning, I close my eyes again, but the persistent twisty feeling in my stomach is keeping me up. I know that it means I will have to dash to the bathroom at some point, and I silently curse the tequila.

 _Wait._  Did I even drink tequila last night? It feels like it, but I have no recollection of it.

I frown. I hate not remembering what went down last night, and I wonder if it's safe to even try to remember. Do I even want to know? I mean, I have flashes of some stuff happening; I think I danced on the coffee table, and I'm almost sure I said something I shouldn't have, but it's all very hazy.

As I bury my face back into my pillow, I detect a foreign scent. I pause and inhale again to try to recognize it. It's masculine, but it's not Carlisle's, I'm sure of that. It's not as strong and doesn't have the same edge to it as Carlisle's scent; it's softer, mellower, and slightly minty. It's familiar, but due to my brain malfunction, I can't place it.

I grumble and sit up in my bed, gathering my bearings. The bedroom looks almost as it did last night before the party, except a couple of things on my desk have fallen over, an empty picture frame is lying on the floor, and there's something blue on the floor close to my bed. I squint my eyes to try to see it better, and my stomach ties into knots as I recognize it as a condom wrapper. I don't know whether to hope it had something to do with me or not, since neither the option of me having sex and not remembering it, nor the idea of someone else having sex in my room, appeals to me.

Usually I remember having sex, even when I'm drunk off my ass, but I was spectacularly drunk last night, so I don't know. Maybe last night I went too far with the drinking.

My stomach rumbles, and suddenly I feel the urge I've been anticipating; I sprint to the bathroom and let everything go.

_Yup, I definitely went too far with the drinking._

I don't care that the bathroom door is open, since nothing is sacred between girls living together, and my throwing up is nothing new. When I'm done doing my thing, I feel better, even though there are tears streaming down my face and my teeth are coated in something icky. I stay sitting by the toilet, resting my forehead on the cold surface of the bathtub next to it.

"Are you okay?"

I freeze and my stomach drops.

_Edward._

I had forgotten about him. He was at the party. Flashes of our interaction come to mind, and I'm reminded of touching my lips against his and fighting the urge to crawl into his lap. I remember fleeing from him because I felt like I was getting too close to him — too comfortable with him — and that I shouldn't be, since Carlisle spent almost a week in my bed. I don't want to be slutty. I don't want to do the one-night-stand thing. I don't want to turn my focus back on Edward just because he's here.

And the fact that I vaguely recall proposing sex to him doesn't bode very well for me.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I answer as I quickly wipe the tears off my face, hoping that not too much of last night's make-up is still on and running with my tears. When I feel dry enough, I turn around and see him in the same dark jeans and deep green, fitted shirt from last night, looking somewhat disheveled. His eyes are a little red, and I wonder if he still has his contacts in from last night or if he only has to use glasses for reading or computer purposes.

He stands in the doorway for a few seconds, but then he steps into the bathroom and walks up to the sink. He finds a small washcloth and wets it in the sink before handing it to me. I smile at him in thanks and put the cloth up to my face, the cool sensation feeling delightful against my skin.

"How's your head?" Edward asks, probably just to say something. The silence feels deafening and awkward and I hate it, so I'm grateful for him taking the lead in a conversation.

"It's fine," I say, my voice raspy. I force myself to swallow, but there's something irritating my throat just below the uvula. "Definitely better than my stomach." I grimace.

Edward turns around again, grabbing the glass we keep next to the sink and fills it with water before handing it to me. I smile at him again and something within me feels warm at his thoughtfulness. I have to admit, it feels nice to be taken care of.

I let the water swirl around my mouth before I spit it into the toilet. After taking only two small sips of water, I feel my stomach twist again, and I hate that I have to do this in front of Edward, but I can't fight the urge to throw up. I expect him to go running, but instead I feel chilled fingers brushing my cheek and against the back of my neck as he gathers my hair from my face. I usually get overly emotional when I get sick, so I'm not surprised when a few non-vomit-related tears escape my eyes once I'm done.

While one hand holds my hair gathered by the base of my neck, his other hand rubs soothing circles on my back. I feel his warmth radiating from where he's kneeling beside me. After the episode, he hands me back the cloth. Once I've wiped my face again, he hands me the glass of water again, and I notice he's refilled it with fresh cold water.

I chug down the water and it finally feels soothing instead of burning in my throat. When it's empty, Edward takes it back from me and helps me stand up by grabbing my hand. I cringe at the clammy feeling of my own and I hope he isn't disgusted by me. The fact that he hasn't gone running at the sight of me vomiting is incredible.

Edward wordlessly reaches around me for something and then to my surprise hands me my blue bathrobe. That's when I realize I'm practically naked, standing in nothing but my underwear and tank top – no bra. Once again, I curse myself for drinking so much last night and vow to never drink this much again. Of course I know that's a stupid vow, since I can't be sure I'll keep it.

I put on the robe and tie it securely around my waist, a bit self-conscious.  _Well, there's a good chance he's already seen the goods,_  I remind myself as I curse mentally and wonder if I should ask him straight out if we had sex last night. It just seems so tacky.

"You should eat something," Edward says as I brush my teeth. I want to tell him that I can't stomach anything, but a loud grumble coming from my tummy kind of negates my unvoiced objections.

I wipe my mouth to rid myself of toothpaste and quickly glance at myself in the mirror. I don't look too bad, although my hair is a mess.

"Yeah," I agree feebly to Edward's suggestion and walk with him to the kitchen as I try to comb out my mane with my fingers. I can already smell the coffee and I wonder if the girls are up.

"I hope it's okay that I made some coffee. I had to search for a while for the filters…" Edward trails off, looking a bit sheepish.

I want to worship him for having the coffee ready, but decide a small smile is enough. He ushers me to sit down by the kitchen table before he pours me a cup.

"Do you take anything in it?"

"No, just black, thanks," I say quietly, settling in my seat as I run my hands across my face, trying to get rid of the morning grime. I feel exhausted and I want to crawl back into bed, since my stomach is mostly settled.

Just as I finish composing myself, a cup appears in front of me, and Edward sits down next to me, clutching his own cup. I bring mine up to my lips, inhaling the bitter scent before blowing lightly so I won't burn my lips. The first sip settles my stomach even more and I feel even less groggy. For some odd reason, it relaxes me, and I don't care that Edward is seeing me in this messed up state, or that he watched me throw up. I don't care that I was a drunken mess last night, and I don't care that I don't know exactly what happened. Right now, I just focus on feeling better than I did a moment ago.

As I allow the coffee to settle in my stomach, it rumbles again, reminding me of my hunger. I don't know if I'm actually able to stomach anything, but I think it would be a good idea to get something in it.

I'm about to get up to scour my kitchen cabinets for something light when Edward jumps up.

"Can I get you something to eat?" he asks as he walks back to the fridge. He barely waits for my answer before he starts pulling out eggs and milk.

"Um, just a pop-tart or something easy would be great," I answer awkwardly, since I feel kind of bad that he's willing to go to so much trouble for me.

"Are you sure? I could make you scrambled eggs and bacon or something. Maybe waffles, if you're willing to wait?" he offers.

I can't help but smile at his eagerness. Once again I feel something stirring inside me and I almost accept his offer, just because he's being so nice, but I honestly don't think it will stay down. "I just don't think I can handle anything heavier than a pop-tart."

"Okay," he relents and turns a few circles in the kitchen. "Um, where do you keep them?" he finally asks.

"Top cabinet, beside the fridge."

I listen to him put two pop-tarts into the toaster and shuffle some plates around as I continue to nurse my coffee. I'm so glad that I don't have a bad headache, though I do feel a bit hazy and groggy.

Two minutes later, Edward walks back to the table with two toasted pastries on a plate. I smile at him in gratitude as he sits down, and I grab a tart. I nibble on it to begin with, but then decide to dunk it into my coffee to soften it up a bit. Pop-tarts have never been a favorite of mine, but for some reason I like them when my stomach is feeling upset.

Edward literally takes care of me for the rest of the day. When I can't eat any more, he suggests lying down on the sofa, which I do, and we watch a movie — well,  _he_  watches a movie; I fall asleep ten minutes in.

I wake up to the feeling of something brushing through my hair, but it feels nice so I don't stir. I let whatever it is continue its ministrations, but it doesn't last long. I open my eyes to see Edward walking away into the hallway, and I notice a blanket is draped over me. The living room looks as spotless as it possibly can be, and I'm impressed. I can only come to the conclusion that Edward himself cleaned up after the party.

A smile tugs on my lips and I clutch the blanket more to my body. I feel warm and fuzzy and my scalp tingles from where his fingers touched me. My head is less heavy, but scenes from last night still threaten to remind me of my fuck-ups. I know I'll have to apologize to Alice and Jasper for outing their relationship, but honestly, I don't understand why it was a secret to begin with. However, me spilling the beans to Alice's brother was maybe less than tactful.

I have a vision of Edward and me rolling around in bed, but it's hazy and distorted. I can practically feel his hands run down my body and I remember feeling like he had eight hands, the mere memory making me shiver. The warm feeling inside me turns into dread, and for the second time today, I feel like maybe I had sex with him. It makes me feel cheap that I would sleep with him so soon after Carlisle and a little bit like I may have used him.

I close my eyes for a second, but when I open them again, Edward is kneeling in front of me on the floor, looking at me. The room is darker and I think maybe I fell asleep again.

"How are you?" Edward asks as I sit up, and I hear someone else shuffling around behind the sofa.

"I'm okay, thanks." My voice is hoarse, but I feel refreshed. I stretch a bit but then just sit and try to get my bearings. The person behind me leaves through the front door before I have time to check who it was.

"Who was that?" I ask Edward, gesturing with my finger to the door.

"Alice and Jasper, they're going over to his place."

I nod and frown slightly. "Damn, I wish they would have stayed a little longer so I could have apologized. Do they hate me?"

Edward laughs. "No, they don't. No one was really upset by you telling everyone about them, since it turns out it was just some silly thing in Alice's head that made them keep it a secret in the first place. Apparently she has a plan, and getting involved with someone was messing up that plan, so she didn't want to go public. Don't worry, they talked it out last night and Alice realized that Jasper isn't really getting in the way of her 'plan'," he air-quotes.

Of course Alice would be the one to get excited by a guy but refuse to go public because of a "plan."

There's silence and I feel the dread again. I try not to look at Edward, but I can sense his eyes on me. I open my mouth to ask the embarrassing question burned into my mind, but chicken out. I just can't decide if the sexin' part was a dream or reality, and in case it's all in my head, I'd better save myself the embarrassment and keep silent.

What I do remember clear as day is the midnight kiss—or rather, slightly-after-midnight-kiss. Oh wait. I kissed a girl, didn't I? Well, that's one college experience crossed off my list.

Kissing Kate wasn't nearly as satisfying as kissing Edward was, though, that's for sure. The feel of his lips against mine again evoked something within me, and I remember feeling like I couldn't get close enough to him. I also remember how I kept running away from him whenever I felt I was getting too close.

I got too close several times. It was like I was seeking him out or something, but instead of going to him, I drank.

Suddenly, I feel exactly how empty my stomach is and I frown, rubbing my belly as if that would remove the hunger pains.

"What's wrong? Do you still feel sick?" Edward asks.

"Nah, just hungry." I shrug and stand up to walk to the kitchen. As I enter it, I notice that it's already five forty-five. "Are you staying for dinner?" I ask politely as Edward enters behind me.

"Um, I don't want to impose or anything," he starts but I stop him.

"No worries, I think I owe you dinner at least after all you've done for me today." I smile and open the fridge to search for something to eat. "By the way, did you tidy up the place?" I ask curiously.

"Yeah, I had nothing better to do, and I wanted to make sure you girls were alright. You were all pretty wasted last night," he explains.

"Yeah," I mumble, embarrassed. "Definitely not my finest night."

Edward laughs. "I've seen more scandalous behavior than last night. Although, that kiss…"

I blush and squirm in my own skin. "Which one?" I grumble, embarrassed that that's even a question.

"Well, I was referring to the one with Kate, but now that you mention it…" he trails off and winks, a smile spreading on his face.

I think I turn even more red, and I focus on finding something for dinner.

"What do you want to eat?" I ask, avoiding that topic. "We don't have much, but maybe bacon and eggs?"

"Sounds good." His voice is close, and when I look over my shoulder, I notice he is standing  _very_ near me. It's uncomfortable and thrilling at the same time, but I remind myself that I have no reason for going there with him unless I find out what happened between us, and I'm not ready for that just yet.

I gather what we need and set it on the table and we get to work. Edward diligently helps me by cutting up veggies and potatoes and frying the eggs because I suck at doing that. I focus on the bacon and putting the potatoes in the oven. Edward does something weird with two of the eggs; he tears holes in two slices of bread, and then fries the eggs through the holes.

"What are you doing?" I ask, bewildered. I have experimented quite a bit with cooking eggs, but this method is one thing I've never seen before.

"Eggs in a basket." He shrugs.

"That sounds… weird…"

"It's how my mom used to make it and I just prefer them this way," he explains, smiling. I nod in response because I really can't think of anything to that. "You should try it," he adds, his green eyes sparkling as he looks at me.

"Um, okay, maybe." I guess it couldn't hurt to try. I mean, it's eggs and bread, it can't taste  _that_  bad.

We continue our cooking and about halfway through I put on some music to dance around to. I'm starting to feel mostly comfortable around Edward and my stomach is feeling so much better, so I'm in a good mood. Edward just smiles as he watches me and does a few dance moves himself, but mostly stays rooted to the stove. He hums along a few times and once we even do a duet to "American Boy" by Estelle and Kanye as we wait for the potatoes to cook. I admit, sometimes I try to be sexy as we dance, and most of the time he's receptive, giving me hungry looks and basically making my insides flutter at the intensity.

I inquire about Kate and ask if he knows of her whereabouts. He informs me that she actually left with someone when the party was winding down.

The food is very good and I try a bit of Edward's eggs in a basket and find them quite delicious. We chat about last night's party and we laugh at all the stupid things that happened, including a lot of my own behavior.

After dinner, we move to the living room and sit comfortably on the sofa, one on each end, turning to each other. I keep asking him if I did this or that and he keeps embellishing the stories with crazy things and laughs at me when I believe him. In the end I've learned not to trust everything he says, and I get even better at knowing when he's telling the truth.

Eventually we have exhausted all other events of the previous night and have reached the dreaded end. It is time for me to either man up and ask if we had sex or continue avoiding and have it come bite me in the ass later on.

"So, did I really beg you to have sex with me last night?" I ask quietly, because I'm not bold enough to ask without looking somewhat shameful. I mean, if I have to  _ask_  then it's not good.

"Well, it wasn't really begging, more like seducing," he says slowly, and I silently thank him for being equally quiet about it.

"So, um… Did we?"

The silence is heavy around us and as I peek at Edward, his face is completely blank.

"You mean you don't remember?" he asks innocently.

"Um, not really… I mean, I kinda remember something, but it's too… it doesn't make sense," I ramble uncomfortably.

He clenches his hands over his heart and pouts. "It hurts that you don't remember our sweet, sweet lovin'."

For a single second I believe him and I'm mortified that I've hurt him by not remembering, but then I realize he's goofing around. "Hey! Don't joke about this! I really need to know what happened!" I laugh nervously with him as he chuckles.

"Alright, alright, we didn't do anything. You drew me into your bed, pinned me down, then passed out."

I visibly relax and sigh in relief, smiling.

"You don't have to be so happy about it," he comments, frowning slightly.

"Oh, no! It's not that I don't want to have sex with you, I'd just rather remember it and not behave like a slut," I explain, but then realize that maybe I'm being too honest so I clamp my mouth shut, avoiding his gaze.

Edward doesn't respond, so I timidly take a peek at him, only to see him smirking at me.

"So you  _want_  to have sex with me," he states, the spark back in his eyes.

"I didn't say that," I retort, but my hands nervously twist in my lap, clearly displaying my discomfort.

He scoots closer to me and grabs my hands, and tingles immediately shoot up my arms and warm my insides. "Come on, admit it. You want to sleep with me." He's smiling, and it's hard to not look into his dazzling eyes.

"Sleep, yes. Sex, no." I meant it to be a snarky reply but it sounds more automatic as I'm distracted by him sitting so close to me.

Edward laughs quietly, shaking his head as he looks at our hands and plays with my fingers. His skin against mine is soothing and butterflies erupt in my stomach. I kind of regret being so bitter and bitchy towards him before Christmas. He's a good guy and I appreciate his kindness, and he never really did anything to me to deserve such treatment. It was all just my self-centered self not caring about the things happening around me.

Sometimes I'm just so damn pathetic.

Resolved, I look at Edward again. "Do you ever make New Year's resolutions?" I ask.

Edward thinks for a moment before answering, "Sometimes, but I haven't made one in years."

"What was the last one you made?" I inquire further, but then add, "If you don't mind me asking?" I don't want to be rude.

He's silent again, probably trying to remember. "I think about three years ago, I vowed to not get too attached to people who would eventually leave me," he answers quietly, his hands tightening around mine. I want to know more about his explanation but I have a feeling it would be too probing, too personal.

"What was your last resolution?" he asks after a few moments.

"I've never made one, but I'm thinking of making one for this year," I answer honestly.

"Yeah?" He looks curiously at me, smiling gently.

"Yeah. This year, I'd like to be a happier person and focus less on myself and more on the people I care about."

I keep eye contact with him and for a few minutes we sit on the couch, holding hands and smiling at each other. I feel comfortable with him and the pleasant warmth continues to heat up my insides. It feels like I have a crush, which I haven't felt in years, if ever. It's not like the old infatuation I had with Edward previously, where I fantasized about him but he was unattainable, but more like I'm excited about his presence. I want him here, and I want to spend time with him. I want for him to look at me like he's looking at me now.

I want him to ask me out for a second date.

"Sounds like a good plan," Edward agrees.


	14. La Redécouverte (The Rediscovery)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on Simplicity is Key: Bella wakes up after the NYE party and doesn't remember most of the night before. A condom wrapper on the floor, Edward in the kitchen, and a faint memory of asking him for sex makes Bella worried she might have jumped into something too quickly, but as it turns out, they did not sleep together. They do seem to be bonding, though...
> 
> Note: I have nothing against Miley Cyrus or Justin Bieber.

_**A week later** _

_I've got my sight set on you and I'm ready to aim…_

I've been getting ready for the new quarter all day by buying my school books, new notebooks and a few new pens and highlighters. My school things are all sorted and my desk is ready to be taken seriously as a working space. I love getting ready for a new quarter; it always feels like I'm starting fresh. But of course, even though I seem so entirely organized, I know it won't be that way for long. Before I know it, I'll be buried in school work and postponing whatever I have to do until the day before it's due.

And this whole damn day, I've had this stupid song stuck in my head and I can't get it out. I don't even know what song it is.

' _Cause I felt this deep connection when you looked in my eyes…_

I keep humming the song, only knowing the occasional line, as I keep folding my laundry and putting it away. A lot of people are celebrating the start of the new quarter by throwing parties all over campus, but Kate, Alice and I have invited a select few to enjoy a movie night with us. Alice has been mostly MIA since New Year's, opting to spend most of her time at Jasper's, but she's been fluttering around the apartment all day, making it ready for the night.

_I got this crazy feeling deep inside…_

When everything is in its place, I make my way to the living room where Alice is arranging a slew of movies on the coffee table. Colorful pillows decorate the floors and blankets have been thrown over the couch so we're all set for a comfy night.

_The next time we hang out, I will redeem myself, my heart it can't rest 'til then, ooh whoa, whoa I, I can't wait to see you again…_

I sink down into the seat next to where Alice is kneeling on the floor, arranging the movies by what looks like is alphabetical order. There's some inane coverage on E! about the death of Brittany Murphy, the reporter theorizing about a possible relationship between the actress' husband and mother. I absentmindedly watch what's going on, occasionally peeking at Alice as she shuffles all the movies together and starts organizing again.

"What are you doing?" I ask her when she does this for the third time.

She looks up at me, surprised at having company. "Oh, I started organizing this in alphabetical order, but then I thought maybe it was smarter to go by year, but of course genre is the most logical choice, don't you think?" she explains in her higher-than-normal voice. "But then again, it's all more or less the same genre, though there are a few sub genres." Her focus is back on the DVDs and I can tell she's considering yet another way to arrange them.

"I'd go by alphabet," I say as I grab the nearest case to read the synopsis. I don't really pay attention to her, though I'm vaguely aware of her agreeing to my suggestion.

_The last time I freaked out, I just kept looking down, I st-st-stuttered when you asked me what I'm thinkin' 'bout…_

"Bella?"

I look up into Alice's sky gray eyes as she watches me, her eyebrows furrowed.

"What?" I ask, oblivious to why I'm suddenly so interesting.

"Were you singing Miley just then?" she asks slowly, almost in disbelief.

"Who?"

"Miley Cyrus! That was  _See You Again_  by Miley Cyrus, wasn't it?" Her body is turned fully toward me and she's pointing at me, like she's accusing me of something.

"Again, who's Miley Cyrus? And what are you talking about?" I ask, completely confused.

"You know! Miley Cyrus! The Hannah Montana chick! And you were singing her song!" Alice exclaims from her spot on the floor.

"Ooooh, it's the little annoying one, isn't it? The one with the teeth and loud laughter?" I cringe at the memory of the only time I ever saw that show.

"That's the one!" she says, smiling broadly and punctuating her statement by gently nudging my knee. "Why were you singing her song?"

"I don't know…" I trail off. I honestly hadn't realized I'd been singing. "This song has been stuck in my head all day. Actually, for a few days, now that I think about it."

"Do you have a crush on someone?" Alice asks, and I feel like she's being nosy.

"Um…" I pause, thinking about how I should answer it. I kind of feel like I have a crush, but it's still so weird — so new. Besides, I don't think I'm ready to admit any of it to Alice, since the one I might be crushing on is her brother. But I definitely feel something squirming in my stomach, and I can't hide my answer from Alice since my cheeks heat up and betray me.

"Oh my god, you do!" she squeals. "That song is a total crushing song and you're blushing! Who is it?" She's bouncing on her knees, looking as excited as a kid in a candy store.

"I-I don't want to say." I squirm in my seat. I feel awkward, and my cheeks are blazing. I kind of want to tell her everything, just to tell someone. She seems like the type to fuel the tiny spark within me and confirm my feelings. Whatever it is, it's confusing.

"Aw, come on! I want to know!" Alice begs, pulling me from my swirling mind.

"Please, Alice. I really don't want to say anything right now, since I don't really know what I'm feeling, you know?"

She sighs. "Okay." There's a heavy silence, aside from the cheerful voice of a woman announcing some new program on E!. Suddenly Alice breaks the silence. "Does it have something to do with that guy who was here during Christmas break?"

I look at her in shock. I had no idea she knew about that. I thought she'd been too busy since she got back from Chicago, with planning the New Year's party and then spending most of her time at Jasper's.

"What?" I shriek nervously. I'm definitely not ready for them to know about Carlisle.

"Well, Kate mentioned something about you having a guy over—"

I cut her off. "Wait, so the two of you are gossiping about me behind my back?" I ask, feeling a bit offended and hurt.

"No! Of course not! We've just been concerned about you, you know? I was wondering if you were still acting strange like you did before Christmas, and Kate mentioned that you might have gotten it out of your system during the break, saying there was a guy here. She didn't tell me who it was or anything…" she trails off and I sit back in my seat, frowning.

"I'm sorry," Alice says quietly as she sits by me on the couch. "I didn't mean to offend you or anything. I shouldn't be nosing around in your personal life, but I just want you to be happy and not mope around like you did, you know?"

I sigh. "I know, I know. I wasn't exactly the happiest kid in the crowd." We sit in silence, and I notice there's a "Sexiest" countdown on E! as I catch a glance at Zac Efron. Eventually, I turn my attention back to Alice. "I'm mostly over it now. There was just one thing happening after another, and I think I kind of lived in my head for a while."

"What happened?" she asks quietly.

"I kinda got rejected by two guys."

"Wow, harsh…" she says slowly. "You wanna tell me about it?"

I think about it for a moment, before I decide that maybe telling someone would be a good thing. "Well, you know how I kinda liked Edward when you first moved here, right?"

Alice surprises me by snorting and it's a very uncharacteristic sound coming from her. "Liked? You were practically in love with him but you refused to admit it!"

"I was not  _in love_  with him!" I retort. "I liked him more than I cared to admit, but then he fucked some girl in my room, so it—"

Alice cuts me off, sounding furious. "What do you mean, 'fucked some girl in your room'?"

"Well, I was on my way to my room when I noticed him walking out of my room, and there was some girl behind him…" As I try to explain, I realize how I jumped to major conclusions. All I remember from that night is the shift in his eyes as he saw me and that annoying voice coming from the bedroom, which still haunts my memory. It's definitely not something that would lead to 'they were fucking.'

Alice looks at me, her brows furrowed. "Who was the girl?" she asks, before adding, "And when was this?"

"At the Halloween party, and I didn't exactly see the girl…" I'm starting to feel really embarrassed.

For a few moments, Alice is quiet, probably trying to remember that far back. Then suddenly she snickers. "But, Bella… That girl was me! And I certainly didn't fuck Ed…" She can't even finish the sentence, due to extreme shivers.

I feel like a bubble has burst, but I can't decide if it's good or bad. I have been living in a delusion for months, but then it turns out that it was something so small and inconsequential. Of course I never knew if Edward even liked me in the first place, but he seemed interested at the club.

"Wow… This is embarrassing," I say, breaking the silence following her explanation.

Alice laughs. "It's okay, Bella. Sometimes we only see what we want to see, and it happens to all of us."

I nod absentmindedly, wondering what other things I might have missed from staying in my narrow-minded world.

"So, who's the other guy?"

The question is barely out of her mouth before we're interrupted by Kate walking through the front door.

"Look who I found outside!" she yells, and I notice Jasper trailing in behind her.

Alice squeals, jumps up and runs into his waiting arms. It almost looks like they haven't seen each other for weeks, but I know better. Kate shoots me a look, smirking and shaking her head at the two, and I smile in response.

I am incredibly relieved that I don't have to answer Alice's question. I definitely think that the Carlisle thing should be kept a secret.

I follow Kate into the kitchen where she is putting away all the stuff she bought in preparation for the night. There are ice-cream cartons, bags of chips, a mix of chocolates, gummy bears and Twizzlers. My stomach jolts at the mere sight of all this sugar, and getting fat at the mere thought of ingesting it. However, that's not going to stop me from indulging a bit.

Kate and I get the things ready for dinner, gathering together the containers of Chinese along with a few plates and cutlery — for those who can't wield the chopsticks. When we finish getting everything ready on the coffee table, I notice that everyone is here; Alice, Jasper, Emmett, Rosalie, Edward, Kate, and her pseudo-boyfriend, Garrett Jones. They really like each other, but neither of them wants to admit that they are more serious than what they say. Kate has told me time and time again how they are in an open relationship or not really dating, since they haven't gone out on an actual date, but she hasn't been with anyone since she started her thing with him a few months back.

I realize that the theme here really seems to be couples' night in, and I frown. It almost feels like it's one of those set-ups where I'm expected to be all cozy with Edward and magical things will happen, and I really don't like the meddling. On the other hand, there is a tiny teen within me cheering at the prospect of maybe being able to cozy up with Edward. It's the crushing part of my psyche.

I catch Edward's eye as he's talking to Garrett and he smiles at me, giving me a small nod. A familiar warmth settles in my stomach, and I smile back before I turn back to browsing through the movies. I settle on one of the pillows on the floor, kneeling so I can see better what's on the table. Someone sits on the couch beside me, and the smooth scent and the tingly feeling I get in my shoulder, which is almost touching his knee, tells me that it's Edward.

"I love this movie," he says quietly as he grabs a case from the table. I'm surprised to see it's  _Amélie_.

I look up at him where he's reading the blurb. "Me too," I admit. "Sometimes I skip the subtitles and pretend I know French, but the truth is, I've watched it so many times that I don't need them to know what they're saying."

Edward looks into my eyes for a moment as if he's searching for something, then says, " _Sans toi, les émotions d'aujourd'hui ne seraient que la peau morte des émotions d'autrefois,"_  and I'm goo at his feet. My breath hitches at the combination of the dead-sexy language from the mouth of a gorgeous man, and the beautiful meaning of those words. I may not speak French, but I know  _Amélie_  inside and out. It might not be a significant quote with great romantic purpose in the movie, but to me, it might be everything.

_Without you, the emotions of today would be nothing but the scurf of former emotions._

I wonder if he actually specifically chose this quote for my benefit, or if it was just the only thing he could remember. Either way, my insides are burning a delectable fire, and I'm definitely crushing on him. For the second time since New Year's Day, I entertain the idea of being his girlfriend and it's an image I quite like. I think we would make a cute couple.

Edward laughs nervously, bringing me from my dazzled state. I want to say something to not make the situation so awkward, but the rest of the crowd comes and settles down around us. Kate pushes the coffee table to the side so it won't be in the way.

"So have we decided on a movie?" she asks, gesturing to the stacks of DVDs.

" _The Notebook_!" Alice pipes up and everyone groans.

"Um, I think that's a no, Alice," Kate says frankly. "Any other suggestions?"

"I don't care," Garrett exclaims, sitting down in front of the sofa. "I've seen the choices and it looks like nothing but chick flicks."

"This one's not a chick flick," Edward objects, lifting up the case of  _Amélie_.

"Oh, not that one," Emmett groans. "That is one crazy chick; I've seen enough of her to last me a lifetime!"

That would be my fault. I saw the movie first when I was eighteen and we were still dating back then. I bought the DVD from a discount basket at Wal-Mart, along with three other foreign films – it was my attempt at being more cultural. I can't remember what the other movies were, but as soon as I saw this one, I fell in love with it. Emmett watched it with me once, but after that he mostly tried to distract me when he found me watching it.

I snicker, thinking he probably doesn't want to watch it because it reminds him of our _special_ time. After all, he has a new lady now, and I doubt she would want him thinking of someone else while sitting with her in his lap, like he is now.

"Okay, so no overly sappy chick flicks, and no foreign films," Kate sums up. "That leaves…" she goes through the stack of DVDs, eliminating the two categories, " _Forgetting Sarah Marshall, He's Just Not That Into You, Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist, Silence of the Lambs_ —"

Alice cuts her off. "Please, no icky movies! I can't watch them after dark, or I'll never sleep." She frowns, and Jasper comfortingly strokes her arms.

This debate goes on for at least ten more minutes, before we finally decide on watching _Yes Man_  and  _Stardust_.

Before starting the first movie, we all grab whatever Chinese food we want and settle back into our seats. Jasper and Alice are huddled together in the love seat, Rosalie is cuddled into Emmett on the couch, Garrett and Kate sit together on the floor next to me, and Edward is sitting right above my spot on the pillows. My heart stutters at the thought of spending the next few hours sitting so close to him, settled between his legs.

Of course, once I've eaten my fill and start to lose myself in the film, I relax and lean into the sofa. As Jim and Zooey share their kiss at the Hollywood Bowl, I am hyper aware of the jean clad legs on either side of me. When Jim flies through town on the Ducati, I feel gentle tugging on my hair as Edward plays with it. After that, I don't really notice anything going on in the movie.

Just as the end credits start rolling, I'm pulled to the present by the blare of my cell, coming from my pocket. I jump up, both relieved and regretful that I'm leaving the space between Edward's legs. Fishing my phone from my jeans, I make my way down the hallway and into my room, so I won't interrupt the others.

 _McSteamy_  blinks on my screen and for a moment my heart drops down to my stomach. I haven't spoken to Carlisle since he left my apartment almost two weeks ago, parting in general agreement that this was just something casual. The fact that he's calling me, however, reminds me how his presence kind of complicates things, especially if I'm planning on pursuing Edward. And honestly, if I had to choose between great, casual sex making my privates throb and skin crawl in excitement, or the awkward tingles and the flutter of my heart with someone much closer to me in age and maturity, I think I'd go for awkward.

"Hello?" I answer the phone as I close my bedroom door for some privacy. Not that I think the others are listening in, but you can never be too careful.

"Bella? It's Carlisle," he says, a serious tone in his voice.

"Hey…" I don't really know how to act around him, even though he's just on the phone.

"I was wondering if you had any plans tonight." His voice is a little warmer now, like he switched from business mode to pleasure mode.

"Well, actually, there's a movie night at my place right now…"

"Oh, well, I won't bother you then."

"It's okay. We're having a break between movies right now. Did you want something specific?"

"No, I just have the day off and I was wondering if you wanted to come over."

 _Gosh, this really sounds like a booty call._  My cheeks flush and my stomach twists—this time, it's not from excitement.

"Well, the thing is…" I pause. I don't know how to explain my feelings to him. While I feel flattered that he still wants to spend time with me, I also feel like I'm getting entangled in something complicated. I don't want to hurt Carlisle by rejecting him, but I want to explore this thing that seems to be developing between Edward and me.

"Carlisle, I can't…" My words are lost from my brain as I struggle to put whatever I want to say in a delicate way.

Silence fills the room and the quiet static of the phone is hardly disturbed by Carlisle's breathing.

"I… I can't do this over the phone. Are you working tomorrow?" I finally ask.

There's another pause, before Carlisle sighs. "No, I'm off."

"Good. Can I come over and we can talk?"

"Yeah, that's fine." His business voice is back, and I wish I could know what he's thinking.

"Great," I answer, trying not to sound like I'm dreading it.

We finish up our conversation with him telling me his address and directions. I'm a little bit excited for getting to see his home, but aside from that, I'm just nervous. However, I know it's the right decision to speak to him face to face and tie up this loose end in my life.

As I walk back to the living room, my phone safely tucked in my pocket, I notice that Edward has moved to the floor and Rosalie and Emmett have taken over the entire length of the couch.

"You're in my seat," I playfully say to Edward as I sit down next to him.

"Sorry, but Rose and Em had a hostile takeover." He smirks, and I look up at Emmett as he cheerfully nudges Edward's shoulder and winks at me. I wonder what Emmett means by this behavior, but quickly turn my attention to the TV as  _Stardust_  starts.

Edward and I sit shoulder to shoulder and I'm hyper aware of his proximity, since whenever I breathe, our arms touch. His soft scent makes me want to close my eyes to experience it more fully. That, however, would probably be a little too much — besides, someone might notice my odd behavior. I might have already admitted this crush to myself, but I'm not sure if I want others to know as well.

The movie is nice and cute and adventurous, and every time I see Yvaine and Tristan bickering, I smirk and think how meant to be they are. I also think Tristan is an idiot for always being obsessed by that cow Victoria.

A few times, Edward leans in and whispers his comments on the movie — more often than not reflecting my thoughts exactly — and we laugh together about the ridiculousness of some points. When Tristan and Yvaine kiss for the first time, I tense up because I'm secretly wishing Edward would kiss me like that. Near the end of the movie, when Tristan is racing toward the wall so Yvaine won't cross it, I've forgotten about my tension and hyper-awareness and I find myself leaning on Edward's shoulder, his college hoodie feeling soft against my cheek.

Edward adjusts his arm and puts it around me, so I'm lying more comfortably against him. The pleasant tingly feeling in my stomach has multiplied and spread around my entire body and I feel like I'm glowing like a star. I can't help but snuggle my nose into the material and inhale his sweet scent. At my gesture, his arm momentarily tightens around me, before he starts slowly tracing his fingers up and down my forearm.

My eyes go heavy and I want to give in and sleep, but before I can, the movie is over and the rest of the group starts chatting away, sharing their opinions.

Reluctantly, I detach myself from Edward, and if I'm not mistaken, it feels a bit like he's reluctant to let me go. We all stand up to clean up after ourselves, and I quickly decide to put the food and snacks away in the kitchen. I secretly hope that Edward will follow me, maybe engage in a little flirting, a little kissing… To my dismay, only Kate follows, ready with teasing comments.

"I think you like Edward again!" she whispers, a large smile gracing her face.

My first instinct is to say I don't, but I'm tired of fighting it, so instead I just look down at the plastic containers to hide my smile from her. "I might," I say, partially teasing her.

"Oh, just say it, Bella. I know you like him. I don't care if you had someone over, and I don't care that you don't want to talk about that, but you cannot fool me on this one! You like the guy!" she whispers harshly, emphasizing her points by jabbing her finger at me.

I just smile and giggle and eventually reply, "Alright, I do. I like Edward! I want to date him and kiss him and be all cozy with him!" I blush at the last part and continue aiming my focus at my task.

"Ask him out, then." Kate shrugs as she reaches around me to put a container into the fridge.

I look at her for a moment before answering. "Is it too weird to say that I kind of want him to ask me?" I ask her, frowning slightly at the re-emergence of my insecurities.

"Not really, but I think he needs to know you're available before he asks you out again. You weren't exactly the most exciting person to be around the last time he tried to pursue you…"

I frown again. "I know," I mumble. There is a pause in our conversation and we continue putting stuff away. Finally, I sigh in resolve. "If he doesn't ask me tonight, then I'll ask him tomorrow."

"Sounds like a plan," Kate agrees, before adding, "Although I don't see why you need to wait…"

I shrug it off, and just as I close the fridge, Edward walks into the kitchen, humming something under his breath as he approaches the sink. I can just make out the words:

_And I'ma be your one guy, you'll be my number one girl, always making time for you, I'ma tell you one time…_

Kate snickers, arching her eyebrow at Edward. "You have Bieber fever, Eddie?"

I look confused at Edward, since I have no idea what that means. Edward stops dead and looks really uncomfortable.

"No, I generally don't like the kid, but this song has been stuck in my head all damn day," he explains as he frustratingly drags a hand through his hair.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, still confused.

"Justin Bieber, the little irritating one who has this song playing everywhere? It's called _One Time_  or something," Kate explains with her typical hand gestures.

I think for a moment before I remember the little guy with the cap and the hair always in his face. The new annoying little teen.

"Know who I'm talking about?" Kate asks, and I nod.

As Kate leaves the kitchen to talk to the others, I remember my annoying-teen episode earlier today, as I mumbled that awful song by that Hannah Montana chick. I'm reminded of when I first saw Bieber on TV and how Kate said that he and Miley needed to be put on a boat and shipwrecked somewhere while Alice said they were a perfect match. The connection between the two isn't lost on me.

I look at Edward and think how when I was humming  _my_  song, it was because I was crushing on him. It makes me wonder if he's singing  _his_  song because he's crushing on _me_.

Edward opens his mouth to speak, and my insecurities are washed away.

"I want to dance," I say, cutting him off.

He looks at me, surprised at my random comment, merely saying, "Okay…"

"I mean, I want to dance with  _you_. And I want a second date. I know I haven't been the easiest person to be around, but will you go on another date with me?" I mentally curse myself for my rambling behavior, while standing tense, waiting for his response.

It's hard to read Edward, as he's just standing there, staring at the floor and shaking his head. When he finally looks up, he's grinning from ear to ear.

"Of course I'll take you dancing," he says quietly, walking a few steps to stand directly in front of me. "I'd love to take you dancing…" he whispers. The intensity of his green-eyed stare makes my heart flutter, and I realize that I'm smiling bigger than I've done in ages.

My breathing quickens as I notice his gaze fall down to my lips, and I automatically lick them. I hear someone calling for Edward — I think it's Garrett — but his fixed stare doesn't falter.

Eventually I give up on the slow build and attack him with my own mouth. He seems surprised at my brazenness at first, but he's quick to slip his arms around my waist. Thrilled that he doesn't push me away, my hands grab his shoulders and neck to get me closer to him. The kiss is needy and wanting, but gentle and sweet at the same time. It's not like the first time we kissed, when he was gentle and smooth and seducing, or like the second time, when I was sloppy and way too drunk.

I slow down as I realize that this is the first time I kiss him and I'm not the slightest bit buzzed — at least not from drinking. Instead I focus on how his tongue feels sliding against mine, and how he tastes of chocolate and mint, and how his slim fingers dig into my back. I drink him in until finally, we slow down to a halt.

Edward straightens up a bit — the height difference making him slouch in order to reach me — and his gorgeous smile is still there. He chuckles and brushes my cheek, before saying quietly, "You're blushing."

Embarrassed, I look away, muttering, "No I'm not, I'm just hot."

Edward chuckles again, squeezing my hip. "Yes, you are…"

"Edward!" Garrett calls from the living room again, bursting our bubble. "I'm leaving! Do you still want a ride?"

"Yeah, I'm coming!" Edward calls back, before turning to me again. "Tomorrow night, seven o'clock?" he asks, smiling at me.

"Tomorrow night," I agree. "I can't wait."

Edward leans down and gives me a small peck on the cheek, before the two of us exit the kitchen. I want to hold hands with him, but I don't know if that would be too much. Of course it's ridiculous of me to think this way, but this 'having a crush' thing is slowly turning me into the shy person I used to be.

The girls, Jasper and I say goodbye to the others at the door, and while the Kate and Garrett are doing their "I might call you tomorrow or something" dance, I notice that Edward hardly takes his eyes off me. After that, it's hard for me to take  _my_  eyes off  _him_ , as I'm starting to realize that I tend to lose myself in his smile.

As soon as the door is closed, Alice pounces me. "You, my dear, have a crush on my brother!" she squeals loudly, and I'm pretty sure it can be heard through the door.

I just laugh, infected by her excitement — well, a lot of it is my own excitement as well — and I answer honestly, "Yes."

"Oh, this is wonderful," she sings, dancing through the living room. "So what are you going to do about it?" she asks, clearly restraining herself from more cheering.

"Well, we're going on a date—"

She cuts me off, rushing toward me again. "When?"

"Tomorrow night," I admit, shrugging, acting nonchalant. I'm far from it, though, as my heart is thrumming in elation.

"Oooh, can I do your hair? And I have the perfect dress for you! And—"

Now it's my turn to cut her off.

"No, Alice, I want to do all that myself, if you don't mind."

At first she looks taken aback, but then she smiles and nods. "Of course, but if you need help, you know where to find me."

"Thank you," I say as I hug her.

As the three of us make our way to our bedrooms, Kate leans in and whispers, "Nicely done with the little one."

I look at her and grin, bumping my shoulder with hers in camaraderie.

The smile seems to be permanently engraved on my face, as the last things I remember before I finally fall asleep is the dull ache in my cheeks and one last flash of my favorite kiss to date.


	15. The Chick Flick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on Simplicity is Key: It was a cozy night in for Bella and the gang. Emmett, Edward, Jasper, Alice, Kate, Bella, and Kate's fling, Garret, got together to watch a couple of movies. During the night, Bella acknowledged her feelings for Edward, Carlisle called (a booty call for sure), and now Bella has to deal with wanting to date Edward and resolving her quasi-relationship with Carlisle. Eventually she decided to ask Edward out, and then they had their first fully-sober kiss (wooo). Now all she needs to do is talk to Carlisle...

_**The next day** _

Butterflies have once again taken residence in my stomach. It feels like I just swallowed a rainbow of them, with the blues and reds and greens of my excitement and my inability to sit still. I'm blaming Edward.

Even though it's my second date with him, I'm more excited about it than I was about the first. It kind of feels like the first.

In my mind, it's only the first of many. It's a new year, and a new beginning.

The only downside of today is the fact that I still haven't met up with Carlisle.

So, yeah. I told Carlisle I would go over to his place and talk, but I kind of chickened out. I've gotten ready multiple times, and twice I've even exited the apartment, but eventually it got too late and I had to start getting ready for the date.

I hate that I'm leaving Carlisle hanging like this. I hate that I promised to see him and I'm not keeping my word. But see, I've had this crawling feeling in the pit of my stomach from the minute I woke up, and it was telling me not to go. I mean, what would I have said to him anyway? " _I'm sorry, I wanna get it on with someone else now, so no more banging for us?"_ Or maybe, " _You're great in bed, but how long will that last?"_ will go over better? Because ultimately, however I'd phrase it, that's how it would sound in my mind — like I was looking for nothing more than a few cheap days in bed.

Also, it kind of sounds like I'm dumping him, even though we never really became official. It was just casual hooking up, right? I mean, yeah, the sex was awesome, and he kept me company for a few days, but that's only  _days_ , not  _weeks._  How much of a relationship can that be? And neither of us feels comfortable being around other people when we're together, so it wouldn't make much of a relationship.

All in all, it feels weird whenever I think of this quasi-break-up talk I was going to have with Carlisle. In the end I decided, why bother? He'll probably get the hint when I don't show up at his place, right?

Right. That's what I'm telling my ill conscience.

My phone buzzes, pulling me back to the present. I eye it warily, as I kind of expect Carlisle to call at any moment. To my relief, it's only Edward.

> _**Don't wear anything too fancy. Just something comfortable, low heels ;) – E** _

For a second I wonder if he's not putting an effort into our date; maybe this is just something casual for him. Then I figure comfortable works great for me. However, I wonder what kind of dancing he's planning on if he wants me to dress for comfort rather than style. Because I  _know_  he's taking me dancing — after all, I specifically asked for that — but what if he's taking me to a dirty, sweaty hip-hop club where I'll be expected to shake my booty like nobody's business?

Actually, on second thought, that would be totally awesome. And hot.

I mean, Edward in jeans and a white tank, drenched in sweat…

Excited, I turn on my iPod in the speaker dock and start getting ready for the date. Whatever else that might have been on my mind goes flying out the window, leaving me with the butterflies working on hyper speed in my stomach. I work my way through my wardrobe and find a dark blue peasant skirt decorated with a gypsy pattern. It's something I bought on one of my visits to Florida. As I handle the coarse material, I remember the scalding heat of the beaches near my mother's house and the back of my thighs start sweating at the memory.

I put on a midnight blue, scoop-neck tank top to go with the skirt and throw on a purple cardigan for good measure. I feel like I'm dressed for summer, and I hope we won't have to walk far or I'll freeze to death. Just to be safe, I find a pair of black leggings and pull them up under my skirt.

When I'm ready, I kill time by trying on different jewelry and hairstyles, though in the end I decide simple is best: straight hair and my pink  _Hello Kitty_  watch.

"I have no comfortable low heel shoes." I huff as I sink into the couch in the living room where Kate is watching TV. "All I have are flats or uncomfortable high heels."

"You  _so_  do have comfortable heels, Bee," Kate says offhandedly, barely taking her eyes off the TV as she watches a rerun of  _Glee_.

"Then where are they?" I ask, agitated. "I've been through my entire shoe collection and I can't find any, and I'm pretty sure I didn't overlook them, since I don't  _have_  that many shoes!"

"Oh, they're probably in my closet. I took them with me to San Francisco for Christmas," Kate answers, eyes still glued to the screen. "I didn't think you'd mind."

I stare at her in shock. It's not the fact that she took my shoes without asking — she does that all the time and it doesn't really bother me. It's that she took my  _heels._

"You wore heels?" I ask, surprised. I'm not big on the whole wearing heels thing, but Kate  _never_  wears them. She claims her feet look clumsy and that she'll become too tall for the rest of the world, but I think it's more the fact that she can't walk on them though her life depended on it.

"They're only low heels," she defends herself. "I'm working my way up to the big stuff." She winks, only half glancing at me.

"Why this sudden interest in wearing heels?" I probe, the sudden idea that she might be purposely avoiding my gaze by pretending to be enraptured with the show choir.

Kate rolls her eyes. "Oh, you know, Garrett is pretty tall, and it irks me that he's taller than me." She acts all cool and joking, but I notice the shy smile playing on her lips and the faint tinge in her cheeks.

"Oooo," I tease in a high-pitched voice. "I think you like him!" I poke her in the sides as I move to sit beside her. The tables have been totally reversed from last night. It's her turn to be all flustered and cute.

"I don't," she objects as she tries to defend herself from my pokes.

"I think you  _like_ like him and you're just too delusional to accept it," I continue.

Kate snorts. "You're one to talk. How long did it take you again to admit to yourself that you like Edward?" she asks.

I immediately stop poking her. "That's different." I pout in annoyance.

"How so?"

"I dunno, it just is," I answer, applying my brilliant rhetoric prowess. Seriously, I should grow up to be a lawyer.

Kate laughs. "Honey, I don't think it is. I mean, let's face it; you've liked Edward for a long time. Sure, it's not the same now that you know him, but you've liked him all the same. But you decided to be broody and bitchy and god-knows-what about it. It actually went so far that I was worried about your sanity! You can't believe how relieved I am now that you seem to be back to normal."

Her whole speech leaves me stunned. "Was I actually that bad?" I ask hesitantly.

Kate nods gravely. "I almost didn't go to San Francisco just so I could keep an eye on you. Although, it was slightly better after your date with Edward, but still, you were nowhere near your old self. Now, however, you seem fine. Happy, even."

I sit back and wonder what changed. Did my short time with Carlisle loosen me up? Or maybe this is Edward's effect on me? I'm pretty sure that this change in me can be traced to one of them, but to whom?

The doorbell interrupts my line of thought, and I shoot up from the couch as if a fire was lit beneath me.

"Oh god, he's here," I say as I start turning around in circles, trying to remember if I'm forgetting something. "Shoes!" I finally remember, and Kate just laughs at me and shakes her head.

"You're  _so_  into him," she says over her shoulder as she gets the door.

I'm running to her bedroom when I hear Edward's voice permeating into my anxious mind, and I instantly relax. It's as if my butterflies listen to him and him alone. The thought induces a smile on my face, and I dance around Kate's room in search of my shoes.

I don't have to search for long before I find the pair of low-heeled black Mary Janes. I quickly put them on and try my best not to run back into the living room where I hear Edward and Kate conversing. Their voices are quiet but sound friendly, and I love how well Edward gets along with my friends. Then I remember how they warmed up to him much quicker than I did.

"I'm ready," I say, smiling as I step toward the two of them.

Quietly, Edward takes in my appearance as I do his. I laugh when I notice how perfectly his midnight blue t-shirt matches my outfit, and his chuckle soon follows as he probably realizes the same thing. Though he's a guy, so probably not.

"Oh, you guys are so meant to be," Kate says, rolling her eyes. "It's almost as bad as watching a cheesy movie."

"Don't mind her," I say to Edward. "She's just as bad but won't admit it."

Kate frowns in my direction, but when she sticks out her tongue I know there are no hard feelings. I just poke out my tongue in return, and we giggle like the little five-year-olds we are. Edward rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

"What?" Kate asks, faking shock. "You should know by now that I'm not exactly the sanest person in the world, and neither is she." Kate nods in my direction, sharing a joking glance with Edward.

"I know, I know, it still just amazes me," Edward answers playfully.

"So, are you ready?" he asks me, grabbing my hand. Our fingers thread together automatically, and I smile at him.

"Yeah, I'm ready."

The butterflies in my stomach give another flutter, but then they're calm, and I relax.

* * *

 

Edward takes me to yet another deserted area of town, and I'm beginning to see a pattern. Okay, no, it's not entirely deserted, but it's twilight and the streetlamps flicker and there's just an eerie feeling to this place. The brick buildings are low and heavy, and I wonder if it's some sort of trick of Edward's to scare me a little bit every time we go out.

I grab his hand and stand close to him as he locks the car. He gives me a reassuring smile, which of course tells me that I have nothing to worry about. I know that for a fact, because Edward and I have developed this telekinesis thing so we can communicate everything we have to say by merely looking into each other's eyes.

Yeah, it's just about as believable as a cow giving birth to an elephant.

No, I just know that despite the crazy scenarios my brain concocts from all these creepy places Edward brings me to, I've learned from experience that he means no harm. Also, he's a man of his word, and he promised to take me dancing.

"I'm a little nervous taking you here because I don't want to give you the wrong idea, but I actually think you'll enjoy this," Edward says as we get closer to one of the brick buildings. There are a couple of large, white tinted windows, so I can't see what's inside, but I can tell there are lights on the second floor. I also detect a heavy beat coming from within the building, and I get excited. The crazy, murderous thoughts instantly turn into some sort of a  _Step Up_  plot, with Edward and me drenched in sweat, our chests heaving from the complicated hip-hop routine, which will probably get us into a fancy dance school or even our own movie! Of course my stomach is a little more toned than in reality, and I'm wearing skimpier clothes than I'm really comfortable with, but hey, it's all for the sake of hypothetical stardom!

Edward opens the door and leads us through a completely empty room and to a spiral staircase. He gestures for me to go first, and I oblige and end up in a small corridor, ending in a large metal door. There's music blaring within the room, and as I look at Edward, wondering if we're in the right place, he smirks at me, probably thinking I'm ridiculously timid or something, and opens the door.

"Elena?" he calls as he steps through the door, and I wonder if anyone will even hear him over the music. The beat is heavy and it's some song I'm vaguely familiar with, but I can't quite place it.

I take in my surroundings as I walk into the room, noticing all the vibrant colors and exuberant posters. There's a large stereo in one corner, and I spot several speakers hanging from the ceiling. One side of the room is completely covered with mirrors, and I instantly become more self-aware. I suppose we are going to be dancing in front of that mirror, and I'll have to watch every idiotic move made by my not-so-elegant body. That's just awesome.

Edward speaks to a young willowy-looking woman, and I hear absolutely nothing. I try to strain my ears, but when I can't gather anything intelligent from them, I stop and start watching the people within the room. I count seven others, aside from Edward, that woman—Elena, I assume—and myself, and they are as different from each other as coke and bacon. There's one big (in every sense of the word) African-American guy, probably around thirty years old, dressed in a colorful dashiki, the yellows and oranges a stark contrast to his dark skin. He has long dreadlocks that bounce around as he dances, and the way he's lost in the music fills me with awe. I want to be able to be so carefree and happy.

I'm not aware I'm staring until I feel someone gently take my hand, and I look around to see Edward smiling at me.

"Are you ready for our dance lesson?" he asks as he takes off my coat, talking loudly over the music.

"I'm so ready!" I'm truly looking forward to some raw and primal fun.

Before Edward can say anything else, the music volume is lowered significantly and Elena starts to speak. "Welcome, everyone, to our little dance studio," she says, looking between us all. "I already see some new faces and some old..." She winks at Edward as she flicks her long, straight, dark brown hair.

I'm about to turn to him and ask him if he's a regular, but Elena continues speaking. "As you all should know, tonight we will be doing ballroom, or more specifically, the Paso Doble. Now, it might be a little intimidating at first, especially for the beginners, but no need to worry, we will do a very simplified version of it. No advanced lifts or anything like that."

I've watched  _So You Think You Can Dance_ ; I know the Paso Doble is nothing to take lightly. It was more commonly known as the Kiss of Death, wasn't it? Or maybe that was the Quickstep… It doesn't matter; it's no less scary. I'm actually very terrified right about now, and I seriously think my heart is going to jump out of my chest.

Elena apparently notices my expression of horror, and she's quick to try and placate me with a smile. "You won't be doing the complicated stuff you see on TV. It's much more basic, so don't worry. Also, we are all here just to have fun, aren't we?" As she says the last words, she looks around the room, and I notice that even though most of them are smiling and nodding and whatnot, there are two other people who look about uncomfortable as I feel — a guy and a girl. They are both paired up with overly zealous people, though, and I'm glad that Edward seems pretty calm. Maybe he's confident enough for the both of us.

"Have you done this before?" I quietly ask Edward.

"Not this, but other ballroom dances, yes."

It makes me feel a little better knowing he's almost as much a beginner as I am.

Elena turns around and turns off the music completely, before starting her introductory speech. "Now, as you might now, the Paso Doble is a very passionate and powerful dance, as it symbolizes the fight of the matador," she explains as she walks back and forth in front of the mirror. "His partner is most often either his cape or his bull, so it can either be a dance of submission or battle. It can be intense and sexy in its struggle and often anger, but do not mistake it for other Latin dances, such as the Samba, the Tango or the Salsa.

"As partners, you will need to keep your distance, yet maintain connection. Ladies, I know it will be hard for you, but you will have to let the man lead," Elena continues, smiling at the girls. "Now, is everyone ready?" she asks cheerfully. I reluctantly nod, although I move a little bit closer to Edward. He gently squeezes my hand, his thumb rubbing comfortingly over the back of it.

I take a deep breath as Elena orders us to disperse and get into position. She's not overly controlling, mostly just telling us not to slouch on our spots. As soon as she starts her instructions, I forget my nervousness and focus on getting the steps right.

It's relatively easy to begin with, as it's mostly just walking on the spot, then four steps back, four steps ahead. I thank my lucky stars that I've always been a rhythmical person, so keeping the rhythm is no problem for me. Edward, of course, is very graceful in his steps.

We go over the same steps over and over and over again, though always adding a couple of more steps to the routine. I actually have fun as I discover how good I am. Elena almost never comes over to correct me or to count the rhythm to me, like she does to so many of the others, and Edward and I seem to be the star pupils. I can't help but gloat just a little bit.

By the time we're supposed to partner up and do the whole thing with music, I am glowing with excitement. Edward and I take up the pretentious hold, and perhaps not so surprisingly, the first turn goes horribly. It is very difficult to keep a serious expression, especially when there's this one girl who is so in character, she's practically trembling a few feet from us.

We go through the routine again and again while Elena walks between us to correct various things. It's proving to be impossible to dance properly with Edward, and eventually Elena stops by.

"You need to let him lead!" she reprimands me in her soft, slightly raspy voice.

"I am letting him lead!" I laugh as Edward and I take up the hold again.

"No, you're not," Elena says, frowning. "You need to let him control your turns and spins. He is the bullfighter, you are his cape."

"But what if I don't want to be the cape? What if I want to be the bull?" I ask, half joking.

Elena apparently isn't very amused by my gibe. "Look, I get that women these days want to be independent, but sometimes you've just got to learn to relax and allow someone else to take the reins, okay? Maybe it'll even feel nice."

The way she says this feels demeaning, and I kind of feel like I've been slapped in the face. My first instinct is to snap back at her, but before I can come up with anything, she's off to help someone else.

I frown and look at Edward. "Am I really that difficult?" I ask, slightly hurt.

"Well, you're not the easiest person to control, but it's kind of endearing. I like that about you, you know," he says, moving closer and putting his forehead up against mine. He smiles, and just like that, I feel better.

"Thank you," I whisper as I smile back.

"Anything for you," he mumbles, and we're inches away from kissing when suddenly we hear Elena clap loudly next to us.

"Alright, people, once more from the top!"

I'm seriously starting to dislike her now, and I grudgingly pull myself away from Edward to pick up the hold. I do my very best to let Edward lead, but the more I focus on it, the more difficult it is. Apparently I like to be in control – who knew? And now I feel like Elena is constantly hovering around us, adding to the pressure and sucking all the fun out of it.

"You need to be further apart!" she instructs, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me a step back. Her grip is surprisingly strong for her small figure, and I don't expect to be pulled quite so far back. Not only do I hate when people grab me by the shoulders, but the fact that she's putting more distance between me and my date really annoys me. Edward doesn't seem nearly as irritated by her as I am – in fact, he looks almost amused.

"You can't keep yourself away from me," he jokes, and I'm seriously considering slapping him for that. I'm  _so_  not amused.

I grudgingly continue with the lesson, and I try to muster up the enthusiasm I had before we started the partnering, but the only times I can really relax is when Elena is nowhere around. Edward does his best to coax little smiles from me, and every time he does, my heart flutters and I want to disappear into him. It's getting increasingly difficult to maintain distance from him, because all I want to do is hug him and smell his scent and have him hold me.

Yup, apparently I love the fluff.

Finally, the clock strikes nine-thirty and the lesson is over. As soon as Elena gives the word, I'm out of the room and clumsily making my way down the spiral staircase. I've always been a little bit afraid of spiral staircases. They tend to be so damn narrow, and it's not just walking straight down; you have to walk in a circle as well. It's just not a good idea for someone like me.

Edward reaches me just when I'm about to open the door out of this place.

"So you didn't have fun?" Edward asks as we exit the building.

"Oh, I did, but that lady was definitely getting on my nerves," I answer honestly, trying not to sound too pissed off. "If it weren't for her, I'd probably still be laughing."

"She wasn't that bad."

The fact that he's defending her isn't going over well with me, for some strange reason. It's almost as if I were jealous or something.

Oh, please don't tell me I'm turning into one of those jealous types!

"Sorry, but she basically told me I was a clingy control freak!" I say, my voice pitching in agitation.

Edward laughs. "How did you come to that conclusion?"

"You saw the way she told me to 'be the cape'! And she said I was standing too close to you!" I huff.

Edward shakes his head as he unlocks the car and we both get in. "I don't understand how that translates into a 'clingy control freak,' I'm sorry."

"Ugh, it was the way she said it." I frown and cross my arms across my chest in defiance. I know my argument is weak, but I'm not backing down. When I notice Edward trying to hide his amusement, I snap. "Just let me dislike her in peace, okay? She's a dancer, for goodness sake. That's enough to hate her for, right there!"

To my surprise, Edward bursts out laughing at that. I'm so surprised by the loud cackle that I actually jump in my seat. And then I start laughing. The whole thing is just too ridiculous and too much like it's from a bad sit-com, that it's hard not to laugh.

After we calm down, Edward finally starts the car. "So, are you hungry?" he asks as he puts the gear in reverse, backing out of the parking space.

"I could eat." I smile as he grabs my hand and holds it on his thigh. I praise the gods that he's driving an automatic, because I love this comfortable gesture.

"Great. I know this fantastic Mexican joint which has the most amazing nachos and quesadillas I've ever had."

"You are quite the fan of food from Central America, aren't you?" I joke as I playfully pat his stomach with our hands. And oh-my-god, his stomach is so hard underneath his jacket; I don't ever think I want to move my hand!

But I do. I pretend I didn't feel his stomach through his clothes, and I pretend I don't want to touch it. I pretend so hard that I don't even notice Edward's answer, but it can't be anything significant since he doesn't call me on my obliviousness.

We make comfortable small talk on the way to the Mexican place, and every time Edward gets excited about something — like his favorite football team: the Chicago Bears — he squeezes my hand or bumps it against his thigh. It also happens whenever he talks about his mom, but never when he mentions his dad, which isn't all that often.

Honestly, I love to listen to him talk. To me he has always seemed to be this quiet, mysterious type who would much rather try to coax out information from his partner rather than to reveal too much of his own. I still think he's that kind of a person, but he just likes me enough to entrust me with his stories. It's not important information, mostly stuff about his life as a pre-med or how he wasn't much into sports as a kid, but it's nice.

Also, his voice is like melted butter, flowing across the most perfect chocolate chip pancake ever known to man.

* * *

 

"This is, hands down, the most awesome date I've ever been on," I say laughing as I watch Edward scrape up the last of the salsa with a nacho. We're sitting in a booth in this little dive he took us to, and he was right: the nachos were amazing. I love how relaxed we've been, talking openly about everything and nothing, laughing, joking, and genuinely having fun.

"Is it, now?" He arches his eyebrow as if he's ready to question that statement. "Have you been on many dates?"

I look at him, my laughter quieting down. Coyly, I ask, "Is that your way of asking if I've had many boyfriends?"

"Maybe." He stares at me, still smiling, and I'm unable to look away from his gaze, though I'm vaguely aware of a nacho disappearing into his mouth. My eyes dart down as he slowly licks his fingers, and I find myself staring at his mouth wrapping around them and sighing as his tongue darts out to lick.

Finally I'm able to tear my eyes away from him, and I clear my throat in order to hide my embarrassment. "No, not many dates, and only one boyfriend," I answer. "I'm guessing your answer isn't as modest," I shoot back, partially taking a stab at him, partially joking.

Edward looks slightly uncomfortable at that. "Something like that…" he mumbles.

"Come on, you must have a number, don't you?" I probe, genuinely curious about this aspect of his life.

"Look, I didn't sleep around, and I didn't treat them like my play things, so there's no need to judge." He doesn't look enraged, but I still feel bad.

"I'm not judging, I'm just curious." Okay, maybe I'm judging just a little. However, if this is going to work, we should be open and honest about these things, right?

He twirls his coke bottle between his hands as he gives me a long, hard look, probably trying to read me or something. I try my hardest to just look curious, but the longer I look at him the harder it is not to smile.

Eventually I crack. "Seriously, you dated  _a lot_  of girls — it's hard not to judge!" I say, laughing embarrassingly.

Edward purses his lips and looks away. I have a hard time telling if he's offended or if he's just playing with me. After a few moments of charged silence, he says quietly, "I don't have a number."

I don't even think before I ask, "Ballpark?" and then realize that it just makes it sound even worse. Like I expect him to have a  _huge_  number. "Sorry," I quickly say, trying to salvage my dignity. "You don't need to answer that."

"No, it's okay," he says as he sits back. "Honestly, the ballpark would be around ten girlfriends, slept with five… six of them."

"Really?" I ask incredulously. "I would have thought there would be more. Especially since you proclaim not to have a number."

"I haven't counted, but yes, I would expect that to be the number," he says frankly.

"Alright then." Maybe it's shallow and silly, but I can't help but smile at this revelation. Sure, six bedmates might be a little much for a twenty-two year old, and yet it's not. Compared to his reputation, it's nowhere near as high as I expected it to be.

As if on cue, I let out a big yawn.

"You know, you have a habit of being tired around me," Edward jokes as I try to hide my gaping mouth behind my hand.

I laugh. "Sorry, it's been a long and draining day," I explain, but then I remember that it's not only the dancing that has drained me. For the first time in hours I remember that I'm avoiding Carlisle. In fact, I deliberately left my phone turned off on the nightstand instead of taking it with me, just in case Carlisle tried to reach me.

"Oh?" Edward arches his brow in question. Every time he does that, it makes me feel like he's putting some extra meaning into our words.

"Yeah, you know, dancing and trying to stay away from you," I answer evasively. "I'm tired of staying away from you," I say quietly and lean over the table, trying my best seductive smile.

Edward leans in, mirroring my pose, smiling. "Then don't."

His breath smells of salsa, and I want to kiss him. I want him to kiss me. I want, I want, I want so much, and yet I don't want to be another notch in a bedpost, nor do I want him to be one in mine. I want him to be mine and I want to be his.

The next thing I know, he is kissing me, and I taste tomatoes and jalapenos. I close my eyes and soon find myself wishing for the table to disappear. I taste his lips, his teeth, his tongue, his soft flesh. His fingers find mine on the table and they play together, playing with the lines in my palm and the veins on the inside of my wrists.

I lose complete track of time and just about all sense of the world around me, until suddenly someone rather rudely says, "Get a room!"

We reluctantly — or at least  _I_  am very reluctant — move apart, but his hands don't let go. I sit in my seat with a silly grin plastered on my face, and the way Edward is looking at me makes my heart race in excitement. I am thoroughly crushing on this guy, with a high risk of feeling more if I'm not careful.

"You want to get out of here?" Edward asks, squeezing my hand.

"Sure."

We stand up and seamlessly move together, his arm resting around my shoulders, my arm reaching around his waist. I grab hold of his jacket and hold tight. I feel safe and happy and like I'm right where I should be.

We don't talk much on the way home, but not once does he let go of my hand once we're in the car.

He parks outside my building and kills the engine. "May I walk you to your door?" he asks, and I wonder if he's hoping to go further.

"Sure," I answer. I want to go further, and yet I'm wishing for him just to give me a chaste goodbye kiss at the door. Some girls dream of their Prince Charming, and he's pretty close to being my perfect Prince Charming. So maybe this is the best test to find out if he is perfect or not.

Not that I'd kick him to the curb if he's not…

Edward, however, walks me to the door, perhaps a little slowly, and stops. He doesn't ask to walk me up to my apartment door; he doesn't ask for a nightcap; he doesn't ask for anything. He just turns to me and smiles, holding both my hands in his.

"I had a lovely time tonight," I say, because I'm a little unnerved by his silence, and because I feel it's the right thing to say. Maybe because it feels a little bit like we're in the middle of a cheesy flick.

"Do you want to do this again sometime?" he asks.

"Dancing? Definitely. Dancing in Elena's class? Definitely not," I joke. So maybe I have a hard time staying serious when I feel all fluttery inside.

Edward laughs silently, casting his eyes down. "I meant going out on a date. With me."

"Oh…" The sincerity in his voice is sobering, and this fluttery feeling will surely make me have a heart attack at some point. "Yeah, I'd like that. We don't have to go out dancing or eating or anything, though. I'm perfectly happy just spending time with you," I say quietly, stepping closer to him to get him to look at me.

He smiles, his hand coming up and gently stroking my cheek before cupping my face. "So am I," he whispers, before he kisses me.

It's brief, but filled with warmth and softness. It leaves me wanting more, but it eases my struggle with not jumping him on the spot. Slowly, he parts his lips from mine, and he briefly rests his forehead against mine as he whispers, "Goodnight, my Bella."

And then he's gone.

I'm determined not to let him see my oh-so-girly side, so I quickly slip into the building, but the door is barely closed when I start squealing and pumping my fists in the air.

He totally passed the Perfect Prince Charming test!

I'm barely aware of my surroundings as I make my way up the stairs, and I find myself holding my fingers up to my lips, which is totally girly. My mind is simultaneously outside my building and in that Mexican place, playing the kisses on repeat. That's why I'm so shocked to see Kate's worried expression as I walk through the apartment door.

"Bella! There you are! Where's your phone?" she asks in a rushed voice, and I wonder who's died.

"It's in my room. What's wrong?" My head is spinning and I'm so not ready to go from blissful to worried in oh-point-four seconds.

"You! Your doctor is here to see you, so I thought there was something you weren't telling me! Like you were sick or something!"

At first I'm confused, wondering why Dr. Karev would go out of his way to reach me – after all, he doesn't look like the kind of doctor who really gives a shit. However, as I follow Kate into the living room, my stomach drops.

So I guess I never explained to Kate how Carlisle was no longer my doctor…


	16. The Unraveling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on SiK: Bella bailed on going to see Carlisle before her date with Edward. The date itself was uneventful aside from a minor clash between Bella and the dance teacher. Who knew she would have to keep her distance during the date? Edward was the perfect gentleman and kissed her by the door and then left, which was probably a good thing, since the good doctor was waiting inside...

_**Same day** _

"Oh god," I mutter as everything sinks in.

Carlisle is in my living room. God knows how long he's been here, but he's here, and he's staring at me, and Kate's staring at me, and  _oh god, what has he told Kate?_  Have they talked? Compared notes? Why did he come here? Why didn't he just call?

 _Oh right_. My phone is turned off in my bedroom. Which is exactly why I left it there; I didn't want to have to talk to Carlisle while on my date with Edward.

Oh god, now I'm really glad Edward didn't want to come inside with me. That would have been awkward.

Damn it, and that's exactly why I wanted to talk to Carlisle in the first place. I didn't want awkward moments or risk crossing any lines. I really need for my life to be clean cut and in order!

Things are going straight to messy; I can feel it.

"Bella?" Carlisle's voice rouses me from my jumbled thoughts, and I'm suddenly hit with a wave of nausea.

"I'm sorry, I'll be right with you," I whisper quickly before I rush off to the bathroom. I close the door, but I don't have time to lock it as I head straight for the toilet. And up comes my lovely dinner.

After I've retched everything I had and more, I sink back and lean against the tub, hugging my knees close to my body, hiding my face from the world. I don't want to be here. I don't want to deal with this. I just want to hit rewind, go back to the scene outside with Edward, and stop time. That's a perfect moment to stay in forever.

I picture Edward's eyes and long eyelashes, his cheekbones and strong jaw, and the light stubble on his cheek. In my mind I gently trace the soft flesh of his lips with my finger. My breathing calms down, and I feel less nauseous, until someone knocks delicately on the door.

"Are you alright?" Kate asks through the door.

I don't answer her and just hope that she'll go away. Yeah, avoiding seems to be my most popular technique these days.

Kate apparently can't read me as well as I'd hoped and comes walking into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. "What in the world is going on?" she asks point blank as she sits down beside me.

"Mess. Big, big mess." I can't think of anything else to say.

"Does Dr. Cullen think you're sick or something?" she probes, and I feel her getting irritated by my evasiveness.

I snort. "I doubt it," I mumble into my knees.

"Well, what is it then? Why did he come all the way down here and demand to see you?"

I ignore her question, but I look up at her as I ask, "How long has he been here?"

"Not long, maybe five… ten minutes or so. What's going on, Bella?"

My head falls back to my knees as I groan. "I did a bad thing… Well, it wasn't really bad… It was kinda good, actually… Anyway, it was a mistake, and now I have to clean it up because I want to be with Edward, and lines are crossing, and I just want it to go away!" I ramble, rolling my forehead against my knees, as if I'm trying to rub the situation out of my mind.

Kate is about to speak when there's a knock on the door.

"Bella? Are you okay? We need to talk," Carlisle's voice comes through.

"Ugh," I mutter before I say a little louder, "Just a minute!"

It's a major effort to try to stand up because I just don't want to, but I drag myself up off the floor and over to the sink. "Do you mind giving us a little privacy out there?" I ask Kate as I get my toothbrush and toothpaste and start scrubbing away the grossness in my mouth. "I'll explain everything later, I promise," I try to say through the suds.

"Sure, no problem." She walks over to me and gently rubs my back. "Are you sure you're okay? Do you have a stomach bug or something?"

I grimace and spit into the sink. "Nah, it's probably just the stress." I wipe the paste from the corners of my mouth.

I turn around, but I can't move. I just stare at the door. I really,  _really_  don't want to deal with this. I have no idea what to expect, and I half expect Carlisle to yell at me. He would be right to; I've been acting like a child, and I can't break out of it.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Bella, just get it over with! Whatever it is, it's clearly best to just rip off the band-aid and be done with it!" Kate grabs my arm, opens the door, and leads me out into the hallway. She then proceeds to shove me in the direction of the living room, and I have no choice but to go. When I turn around to glare at her, she's already on her way into her bedroom, and she gives me the thumbs up and a fake smile before she closes the door behind her.

Right. Time to face the music.

I tentatively walk back into the living room and spot Carlisle sitting on the sofa, looking kind of out of place. I feel like I should say something, but nothing comes to mind. All I can do is keep walking because if I stop, I'll probably end up turning around and running away again. My goal is to make it to the couch next to him, where I'll have to sit until we're done talking. No chickening out!

"Are you feeling okay?" Carlisle asks, breaking the silence as I sit down beside him.

Suddenly I don't quite know how to compose myself. My back is stiff, and I'm staring straight ahead, not looking at him. My hands feel awfully awkward, so I clasp them, and I'm very aware of them. They feel so heavy in my lap, and they're clammy. When I start wringing them together, I remember I'm supposed to be answering Carlisle's question.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" I croak out.

"Are you sure? Any nausea? Headaches? Fever?" he inquires, and I instantly become less aware of the awkwardness of my hands. He's in doctor mode, and it kind of annoys me.

Actually, it really annoys me.

I turn around in my seat to face him, my eyes narrowing at him. "I'm not sick. Stop playing doctor."

Carlisle lets out a quiet laugh before silence takes over again.

"Bella, what's going on with you?" he asks quietly, and I avoid his gaze. "You sounded so upset on the phone yesterday, and then when you don't show up, it's nearly impossible to get a hold of you! I was worried that you were in trouble!"

I close my eyes tightly as my hands fly up to rub my temples. I feel so stupid and embarrassed for behaving so childishly, and even worse for having to explain myself.

"I'm sorry! I'm just being a big idiot, that's all…" I say evasively.

"What was it that you couldn't tell me over the phone?"

"I…" I don't know how to begin. I guess that has always been the problem. "I… I met someone, and I judged him for serial dating, so I shouldn't be a hypocrite, right? Whatever it was that we had going on, I need it to stop, you know? And I really like him, maybe even… I really like him and I want to be with him and only him…"

I feel Carlisle's hand gently rub my back, and I realize that I've tensed up. His touch doesn't calm me one bit but rather makes me feel uncomfortable.

"I never thought we were anything serious," Carlisle says. "It seems like you were worried I did."

"I wasn't… well… no, I wasn't worried. It just sounds so petty, you know? Here we were, doing… what we were doing… without a care in the world, but then I fall for this guy, who very well might be perfect for me, and I find myself having to tell you that we can't fuck anymore." I cringe at my own bluntness. "I've never been in this situation before, and I find it kinda ridiculous. I didn't know how to handle it, so I guess I just allowed myself the luxury of not caring with Edward either."

Once again I feel like what I'm saying doesn't make sense. I feel awkward and silly and so goddamn immature. What makes it even worse is Carlisle's being so calm about all of this.

"Bella…" Carlisle starts, still kneading my shoulder. "I believe we agreed that this was just casual — that it wasn't serious, and that we weren't going to make it so. I never had any expectations."

The fact that he's so calm drives me insane. "How can you be so damn reasonable?" I snap but immediately regret it. I shouldn't be angry at him. He's being nice, while all I've been is childish and self-centered. "I'm sorry. I'm glad you're being reasonable. It's just really frustrating, having you being all voice-of-reason while I've been behaving like an idiot. Why can't you be mad at me like a normal person?"

I grimace and hang my head as Carlisle starts laughing at me. "Why should I be mad at you? We agreed, remember? You didn't cheat; you didn't lie… It's not like you've been stringing me along under false pretenses. Besides—"

I cut him off. "I know, I know! If I'd only talked to you like I meant to, everything would be just fine. You don't have to tell me that I've been behaving like a child."

There is silence, and Carlisle continues to stroke my back. I try to relax, but the feeling is so foreign that I end up feeling nauseous again.

After a few minutes, Carlisle breaks the silence. "Who's the guy?" he asks.

I don't know if I should answer him. Once again I feel like lines are crossing. Eventually I decide that there really isn't any harm in telling him. Anyway, it would probably hurt Edward more to know about Carlisle than for Carlisle to know about Edward.

"His name is Edward, and he's a student at UDub," I answer and instantly relax at the thought of him. "I've known about him for a while, but I only just got to know him recently. It's weird. I always thought he was such a douchebag because he used to have a slew of girlfriends following him around, but now that I've gotten to know him… He's really nice," I gush. I slump back on the couch and drag my feet underneath me to get more comfortable.

"He's my age, I think… maybe a year or two older? I've never really asked. He seems to like much of the same music as I do, and he can quote my favorite movie. What more can a girl ask for?" I find myself smiling at the thought of Edward and his fluent French pronunciation.

Carlisle's voice breaks my revelry. "He sounds nice, Bella. He has clearly had a good influence on you."

I look at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"There's something different about you. It's like you're… glowing," he explains, and I scoff.

"I can hardly have changed a lot in the past two weeks."

"It feels like you have," he objects. "You seem more relaxed when you talk about him, and I don't think I've ever seen you smile so genuinely."

I feel myself blushing at his statement. I still doubt what he's saying, even though I have to admit that I feel more girly when I think about Edward — like I have a girly crush on Edward. And honestly, it feels good.

"How about you, Doc. Do you have anyone to gush about?" I ask, mostly in an attempt to turn the attention off me.

To my surprise, Carlisle actually gets flushed and looks quite uncomfortable.

"Me?" he asks, practically squirming underneath my gaze. "No…" He shakes his head.

"Carlisle! Who is it?" I ask, surprisingly excited by this new development.

"It's nothing," he tries, and he makes a move to stand up. "I should probably go."

"No way!" I latch onto his arm to keep him down. "I've told you about my fella, so it's time for you to tell me about your gal. I insist!"

Carlisle reluctantly sits back down, but he's silent for a long time.

"I…" he starts, but he has trouble continuing. Eventually he shakes his head. "No, I don't think I can talk about it."

I realize that something is really bothering him about this woman. The creases on his forehead tell me everything his tightly gripping hands are not. I worry that I've crossed some boundaries, and rather rudely at that, as I watch the pained expression behind his eyes.

"Carlisle…" I start quietly as I gently stroke his cheek. "You really don't have to tell me, but you know I'll listen, right? If you want to talk, I'm here."

The atmosphere has changed so drastically that I feel uneasy in my stomach again.

Whatever it is going on with Carlisle, it seems to be battling right behind his calm exterior, because he neither makes a move to leave or to start speaking. My hand finds his, and I worm it into his clasp as I relax beside him, resolved to give him peace.

I'm not surprised that he doesn't want to be open about his own private life. I think tonight's conversation has probably been the most revealing one we've had about our personal lives so far. And yet it was mostly just me revealing my life. I don't really know that much about Carlisle.

"She's married," Carlisle croaks after a few minutes of silence. My hand squeezes his, and I don't know what to say. I don't have to worry for long before he continues, "She's married to my cousin, Jane."

I stare at him for a second as the pieces come together. "Wait, so she's a lesbian?" I ask, and I cringe as I realize what I just said. Sometimes I could use being a little more reserved.

"Yes," he answers simply.

"How… How?" I'm a little worried that I'm pushing it, but my curiosity is getting the best of me.

Carlisle doesn't respond, but his hands tighten around mine. I just sit there, trying to be there for him in any way I can. Finally I feel like I understand his desperation the first night we got together. I finally understand why a respected doctor entered into a sexual arrangement with a girl almost half his age, and why he hasn't been snatched up by some lucky lady already.

I'm shaken from my thoughts when Carlisle suddenly stands up.

"I should go," he explains, gathering his jacket off the back of the couch and walking towards the door.

I spring up and follow him, hoping that I didn't make him too upset.

"Carlisle, please..." I try. "You know you can talk to me, right? I mean, maybe it's better this way. Maybe what you really need isn't someone to booty-call, but someone to talk to."

Maybe this suggestion is ridiculous, and maybe it would be weird for a thirty-something to be friends with someone in their early twenties. However, he was there for me when I was on a downward spiral, practically keeping me afloat during Christmas, so maybe it's time for me to be there for him in the only way I can right now.

Carlisle stops as he reaches the door and turns around to look at me. There's a sad smile edged on his face, and I hate that I can't offer him more.

"Thank you, Bella," he says kindly, "but I think it's best if we just keep our distance, at least for a while."

I try smiling to show that I understand, but it still feels like I'm losing someone I care about.

"Alright," I sigh. "But you know where to find me if you change your mind."

A small smile tugs on his lips, and he nods. "I do."

He opens the door and walks out into the hallway before he turns back around. "By the way, I never thought of you as just a 'booty call.' It was so much more than that. Thank you for everything." He smiles more genuinely, and then he turns around and descends the stairs and out of my view.

I close the door and lean against it. Somehow it feels like I was ending something good. The only thing that prevents me from hurting is the thought that it was in order for something great to begin.

Before I have time to think more about what just happened, Kate sticks her head out of her bedroom.

"Bella, we need to talk," she says simply, a devilish look in her eyes, and I know it's time to tell her about my little adventure with Carlisle.

* * *

 

"Fuck you."

Kate is sitting across from me on my bed, and I've told her everything. Down to every sordid detail. The look on her face is priceless: a mix of resentment, humor and worry.

"Fuck you, Bella," she says again, her hands clutching my  _My Little Pony_  so hard that I worry for his life. "All this has been happening, and you never even thought of telling me? I thought we were friends! Hell, I thought we were best friends!" In a fit of outrage she swings the pony around, the purple hair swishing dangerously close to my DVD collection on the shelf above her head.

"You're thinking a bit highly of yourself there," I joke, my gaze flickering between the pony and her fighting to keep her serious expression. I know she isn't as mad as she sounds, but I still feel bad for not telling her before.

"I know, I've been stupid," I apologize. "At the time, I was embarrassed and… I don't know. I don't know what I was thinking. Besides, it's not like you always confide in me," I suggest hesitantly, wondering if she catches my drift.

She doesn't.

"What do you mean by that?" she asks puzzled as her finger starts looping the pony's hair around it.

"Garrett?" I remind her. The fact is that Garrett has been around, Kate has been not-really-dating him, and even though I know that she has feelings for him, she always brushes me off when I try to ask her about it.

"What about Garrett?" she asks, feigning nonchalance.

"Exactly! What about Garrett? Why won't you tell me what's going on there? Especially now, after you've reprimanded me for not telling you about my confusing personal life!"

I'm not really mad, but now that I've told her everything, I feel like it's time to push her to rely on me for opinions and answers.

"Seriously, there's nothing I'm not telling you!" Her finger is now twisting the hair so furiously that I'm sure the pony will end up with a bald spot before long.

"Fine!" I give up. "Just know that I'm going to be telling you 'I told you so' one of these days."

She just huffs but doesn't say anything. Her strokes are a little aggressive as she absentmindedly pats the pony.

"Kate?" I ask gently, breaking her reverie.

"What?"

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" I probe, smiling at her. At first she looks surprised, but it's soon replaced with a devilish grin.

"You bagged McSteamy! You little minx! I don't know whether to slap you or high five you!" She laughs. "So, was he any good?" she asks and arches her eyebrows suggestively.

I smile, avoiding her gaze. "I guess that's just for me to know and you to… Actually, no. It's just for me to know, and you to not find out," I say as I look back up at her, winking.

* * *

 

_**A month later** _

A month has passed since I resolved the issue I had with Carlisle, and everything has gone smoothly since. Edward and I have been dating, and I'm practically comfortable enough to call him my boyfriend. We haven't discussed it, and I've never called him that in front of other people, but in my head I refer to him as my boyfriend all the time.

Alice has been spending most of her time at Jasper's place, and more often than not, Edward has spent his free time at mine. Often we just lounge around and watch TV, but sometimes — like tonight — we cuddle up in bed, talking, reading, or doing… other stuff. However, much to my frustration, we've never actually gone all the way.

"I really should go home and study," Edward says, interrupting my thoughts.

I snuggle into him, once again admiring his pleasing scent. "Just a few more minutes? Please?" I plead as sweetly as I can muster.

Edward groans, and his chest rumbles beneath my cheek. "You know, I kinda had my sights set on passing my exams in this quarter."

"It's only February, you have plenty of time to pass with good grades," I try, though I feel bad for spoiling him so. Studying for a medical degree is a lot harder than for an English degree. Or so I gather.

He laughs. "As much as I hate it, I really need to go," he reiterates but makes no move to go.

We lie together in silence on the bed for a few more moments. Eventually I decide to broach a subject I've been meaning to talk to him about for a while.

"Listen, I'm planning to go to Forks next weekend…" I hesitate, not sure how to explain my trip. "It's been on my schedule for a while. It's just something I've got to do… I was wondering if you might like to come with me."

"Sure, sounds nice," Edward answers, and I feel slightly guilty for not telling him exactly why we're going. Maybe it's a bit much for a new boyfriend.

"Um, you should know that this isn't just a casual trip." I start picking invisible lint of Edward's sweater, my cheek still resting against his chest.

Edward's arm tightens around me before his hand starts gently stroking up and down my arm. "Oh?"

"It's um… The thirteenth is the one year anniversary of my father's death," I say quietly.

Edward's arm stills for a second and then tightens again, and I feel the faint touch of his lips against the top of my head. "Of course I'll go with you, Bella," he murmurs into my hair.

I am so overcome with relief and some foreign — happy — feeling that I can't help the tear escaping my eye as I snuggle into his chest.

"Thank you," I whisper. Now I really don't care that he's leaving tonight. He cares enough to stay with me at a time we both know will be weird and difficult for me. And as depressing as the atmosphere will be, maybe this is the step we need in order take our relationship to the next level.


	17. The Good, the Bad, and the Disturbing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on SiK: Bella had to face Carlisle and all his wrath. Which was pretty much none. They discussed their situation and that they needed to not continue the way they had been. Bella tells Carlisle about Edward, and Carlisle sort of tells Bella he's into someone else who's also unavailable (a lesbian who's married to his cousin - if that's not unavailable, I don't know what is). In a separate scene, Bella asks Edward to join her in Forks for the anniversary of her dad's death. Morbid.

_**Later that week, Friday** _

My last class isn't finished until three o'clock, and my stomach has been flipping over all day. I'm itching to get back to the peace and quiet of Forks and to feel the little connection to Charlie I have left. The fact that Edward is coming with me has only increased my nerves, and yet I'm weirdly excited to introduce him to this part of my life.

I rush through my apartment door and into my bedroom to gather up my luggage. I want to be all set and ready when Edward comes, which should be soon.

When all my things—a backpack and a messenger bag—are gathered in the living room, I turn to the kitchen to make us a little snack for the trip. That's when I see the shopping bags and the additional luggage not belonging to me.

"Bella? Is that you?" Kate's voice comes from within her room just before she walks out. "Oh good. I wanted to ask you, do you think we'll need toilet paper this weekend?"

I stare at her, confused. "What do you mean?" I ask slowly.

"You know, at your father's house! Do you know if there's toilet paper, or do we need to bring some?" she asks, oblivious to my puzzlement.

"Um, I think there should be some there," I say hesitantly. We had entertained the idea of her coming with me, but that was before I'd decided to bring Edward. I thought we had cleared things up, but it seems we hadn't.

So I guess this weekend will be quality time with the three of us. I just hope Kate will understand that I'll want some alone time with Edward.

I slowly take a peek into the grocery bags and see a whole lot of junk food. The content reminds me of road trips and going camping in the summer; the only thing missing is marshmallows for making S'mores. All of it seems almost too cheerful for the occasion.

Before I can think more of it, I hear the front door open and the cheery voice of Alice.

"Hola, chicas!"

I walk out into the living room and see Alice, Jasper and Edward coming through the front door. The sight of Edward is a relief, and I instantly make my way into his arms, not thinking anything of the others being here.

"Hi," I whisper to him as I give him a quick peck on the mouth.

The smile appearing on his lips warms me inside. "Hey."

"Listen," he starts, ducking down his head to whisper into my ear. "I think Alice and Jasper are coming with us. Did you invite them?"

The unease increases in my stomach as I watch Alice walk into her bedroom, saying she needs to get a couple of things before she's ready to go. As much as I love my friends, I feel like they're invading a really personal thing by inviting themselves on this trip. However, I have a real hard time opening my mouth and telling them, so I bury my face in Edward's shirt in order not to show my anguish.

Edward is really nice and understanding, and he leads me into the kitchen and away from the other people.

"Are you okay?" he asks once we're out of hearing distance of the others.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lie. "Just a little surprised, is all." My smile is probably not as genuine as I mean it to be, but I don't want to be a whiner. So what if my friends want to be there with me at a vulnerable time? It means they care, right?

Edward's hug is comforting and a little bit tighter than normal. I don't think he believes me, but he's willing to go along with it. The small gesture is enough to make me not care about everything else. We'll make a weekend of it. I still get to visit Charlie's grave, and I still get to introduce Edward to a part of my life he has yet to meet.

Kate walks into the kitchen, stopping dead in her tracks when she sees us.

"Bella, are you okay?" she asks tentatively as she steps a little closer.

I just nod and mutter, "Yeah, I'm fine," but make no move to distance myself from Edward. His warmth seems to be the only thing keeping me sane at the moment.

"Edward, can I have a minute alone with Bella, please?"

I feel Edward nod above me, and I reluctantly let go. It's not that I feel myself needing to always be around him now that I have him. It's just that he seems to be a safe haven. If he stays, Kate is more likely to go away, and I don't have to pretend I'm fine.

"What's up?" Kate asks as Edward leaves the area.

"I'm up," I say evasively as I turn around in the kitchen, putting away some of last night's dishes.

Yeah, I try to be funny at the oddest times.

"Bella, cut the crap," she says bluntly.

I sigh, but I'm oddly relieved that she's being a pain in the butt. Sometimes I just need that extra shove.

"It seems that you're all coming with Edward and me to Forks." I make sure not to sound too accusing. It's simply a fact.

"Yes," she says slowly, clearly wanting to know why I chose to state that.

"I didn't know you were coming."

"Bella, we talked about this. We agreed that it was best that you wouldn't be alone this weekend!"

"Yeah, but Edward is coming with me!"

"And you want to put your crazy ass in the care of someone you're afraid to call your boyfriend out loud?"

Yeah, Kate knows me pretty well.

"Look, I don't really care that you're coming. And Jasper at least knew Charlie. But how did this turn into a fun weekend trip for the gang?" I ask, exasperated.

"I don't know. I guess Jasper and I were talking about it around Alice, and he mentioned something about Emmett going, and probably Rose with him—"

"Rosalie and Emmett are coming along too?" I have to restrain myself from not shouting.

"Well, they're not going to be staying with us. He has family there, doesn't he?"

I can feel the irritation bubbling underneath the surface, but I refuse to burst. I know I'm wrong, and Kate's right. Everyone has a reason for going—well, aside from Alice, but she probably wants to be there for Jasper.

Some of the town people have organized a memorial service, seeing as he was an important person down there. Sue Clearwater, our next door neighbor, contacted me and asked if I wanted to be involved, but I can't. I can't stand in front of people I hardly know. I couldn't deal with it at the actual funeral, and I can't deal with it now. No way. I'm going to do my own thing, whatever that will be. I'll have to improvise, I guess.

With a sigh, I decide that I don't care. All that matters is that I'm going to see my father, and Edward is going to be there to support me. And, apparently, all my friends will be there as well. Even though Edward's presence is all I really want, the extra support is kind of nice.

"Alright. But I'm not exactly happy about this."

Kate gives me a look, calling me out on my crap.

"Fine," I say, grudgingly. "Thank you for caring. Still not happy."

As we get to the parking lot where Edward is waiting with the trunk open, Emmett's humongous truck comes speeding towards us. I can't tell exactly what kind of car it is, but it's big, blue and black, with huge tires, and it says 'Jeep' on it. Emmett has had it for a couple of years, and he's constantly working on it. It seems like it breaks down every other week.

"I guess we should split into two cars, right?" Alice suggests as Emmett's car comes to a halt.

"I call the Volvo!" Kate shouts quickly, running towards Edward's car.

Alice and Jasper are glued together, and I make my way over to Edward's side so it's obvious I'm not going to part with him for three hours.

"So," I start innocently. I really don't want to ride in a car with little Miss Happy-Pants at the moment. "You can either cram into the backseat of the Volvo or get a ride with Emmett…" I smile at her, and she seems to fall for the bait.

"You're right. I think we'll ride with Emmett and Rose," she says cheerfully and drags Jasper with her over to the car.

Jasper gives me a look, suggesting he knows what's going on inside my mind; it's a gentle mixture of sympathy and a smirk. At that moment, I'm really glad Jasper is coming with us, even though Alice is coming, too. Maybe the weekend won't be a total disaster after all.

The ride down to Forks is quiet and actually kind of relaxing. I get plenty of time to think about what we could all do over the weekend, how to plan the sleeping arrangements, and how I need to talk to Sue about the upkeep of the house. Kate starts up a conversation when she reminisces about the journeys she used to go on with her father when she was little. Apparently, they had an RV, so every summer they went on a long drive to discover something new. It's all kinds of fascinating to listen to her list all the things she's seen.

Somewhere around Lake Crescent, between Port Angeles and Forks, Edward's phone starts ringing.

"Can you answer that, please?" Edward asks me as he digs up the phone from his pocket and hands it to me.

"Sure." It takes me a while to remember how to unlock the fancy iPhone Edward has, but eventually I manage to answer. "Hello?"

"You're not Edward," Emmett's voice says bluntly.

I roll my eyes. "How observant. What gave me away?"

Emmett laughs. "So, Edward's mouthpiece, could you please ask him to stop and turn around?"

"What? Why?"

"Oh, we just had a little mishap, and we really need you to turn around and come get us…"

My heart falls down to my stomach as I frantically tell Edward to turn around. "Is everyone okay?" I ask, terrified that they've had some kind of accident.

"Yeah, yeah, we're fine. The engine just kinda fizzed out and we need you to tow us to town," he says calmly.

I swear if I were anywhere close to him, I would punch him in the gut.

"Why the hell did you make me think it was something serious?" I shout into the phone. "I thought you had hit a tree or flipped over or something!"

"Whoa, calm down!"

"You should have led with 'it's nothing serious'! 'A little mishap' sounds like a major accident when it comes from your mouth, Emmett McCarty!" I rant.

I vaguely register Kate say behind me, "Watch out, she's in full-name mode!"

"Bella, chill!" Emmett says sternly. "It isn't anything serious. I just need a tow to town so I can fix it. Now could you please turn around or pass the phone over to Edward."

"We've already turned around," I mumble irritably. "Where are you?"

"We're on your side of the turn to Lake Crescent Lodge—about ten miles past it."

I relay the message to Edward, and thankfully we're very close to them. Edward laughs as he and Emmett tie the rope between the two cars with Rosalie rambling something about it not being the engine but the carbonator or something. Maybe carburetor... Emmett just smiles and shakes his head, and I'm sure that to the uneducated it looks like he's being slightly condescending towards her, but I know better; he is in awe of her knowledge of cars. I can totally see in his face that he knows Rosalie is right, and he loves that.

When we finally make it to my house, I feel relieved. It's like a huge weight has been lifted off me. It helps that the ground is covered in soft snow, and little flakes come dancing down from above. It's so peaceful and quiet, I just have to stop and take it in for a moment, not caring that the others are busy taking their stuff together and waiting to get inside. The air is just too pure not to enjoy it.

After a couple of moments standing with my eyes closed and filling my lungs with air, I feel someone come up and put their arms around me. My head automatically leans towards Edward's chest, falling perfectly into the nook of his neck. I've become so familiar with the feel of his body next to mine that sometimes I swear I feel some kind of undercurrent when he's near.

"I think the others want to get inside soon," he says quietly into my ear.

I sigh. "I guess I should go unlock the door, then…"

"The weather is supposed to stay pretty much the same the entire weekend, so you have plenty of time to enjoy it later."

"I know." I take one last gulp of fresh air before I open my eyes again, ready to open up my home for my friends. Emmett and Rosalie have already driven away, but the rest of the gang is huddled up around the front door, looking too scared to disrupt my quiet time.

I smile at them as I see their careful expression. "So, who's ready to see Casa de Swan?"

* * *

 

After showing everyone around and getting them settled in their sleeping quarters—Edward and me in my room, Jasper and Alice in my father's room, and Kate in the guest bedroom—the girls and I start preparing for dinner while Jasper and Edward… do something. Not quite sure what they're doing. We make sure to complain loudly of the injustice of us girls having to cook dinner, so eventually they offer to clean the dishes. A fair trade is a fair trade, right?

I find myself wandering outside again after dinner. It's comforting to hear life inside the house while enjoying nature's silence. The air feels almost thick with quietness, and I imagine if I'd scream, only people within fifty feet would be able to hear me. Snow somehow makes everything seem more muffled than usual. It's completely dark now; the only light around is from the neighboring houses.

The door is opened and closed, and Edward comes walking towards me with a thick blanket under his arm.

"Aren't you cold?" he asks, eyeing the thick woolen sweater I have on.

"Not really," I answer honestly. "There isn't much wind, so I don't really feel the cold."

He sits down next to me. "I'd feel better if you were better dressed," he says as he starts unfolding the blanket.

I just smile and obligingly lean into him when he throws the comforter around us. "Thank you," I say quietly.

"For what? For bringing you a blanket?"

"For being you. For being here. Just, thank you." Once again I can't quite articulate what I'm feeling, so I decide to just keep it simple. I have a hard time placing the gut feeling I have.

Edward holds me tighter, completely covering me with the blanket. When I feel the warmth spreading through my limbs, I finally realize how cold I actually am.

"Edward?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you… Do you want to come to the cemetery with me?"

There's silence as I feel his chest expand in a deep breath.

"Yeah, I'd love to."

"Is it okay if we go now? I want to go before everything else happens. I don't know the exact plan for the weekend, but I want to go when it's quiet and no one is around. Is that okay with you?"

His breath heats up the top of my head, and I feel him smile against my hair. "Anything for you, Bella."

Hand in hand, still wrapped together in the same blanket, we walk the short distance to the cemetery.

It feels weird to stand in the darkness of the night over a grave with a rather nondescript headstone. Not to mention having someone with me who never knew my father. Someone my father would never get to meet. Just thinking about it makes my heart constrict.

Not a word is said between us as we stand there for god knows how long. Edward holds me in his arms, occasionally rubbing some warmth into me while I try to wrap my head around the fact that Charlie is lying six feet under the surface, rotting in a coffin. It's too surreal for me to comprehend.

I haven't been to his gravesite since he was buried, almost exactly a year ago. For this whole year, I've been busy trying to cope with his loss, trying to move on, and wrap up all the loose ends he left behind. It has barely left any time for me to process it all. I've been to Forks, sure, but mostly to clean up the house and to sort Charlie's things into what I should keep and what I should throw or give away. It is somehow easier when you're on autopilot, like I have been.

As I think back to everything I've been doing this past year and all the thoughts I've avoided—how I haven't visited my father—I completely break down. If it weren't for Edward standing behind me, I probably would have fallen to the ground. Tears stream down my face as I collapse in his arms, and I feel him struggling to hold me up. Eventually he gives in and settles us on the ground. There we sit for ten minutes, twenty minutes, thirty minutes — I don't know for how long.

I finally calm down to only the occasional sob. That's when I notice Edward's gentle shushing, like he's trying to pacify a baby. I start to feel sorry for having landed him in an awkward situation, but he's stroking my arms and back in such a comforting manner that it's hardly awkward. He genuinely cares for me. The thought brings on another wave of tears, but for a totally different reason.

"Edward?"

"Yes, baby?"

"I…"

I choke. I don't know if I can say it yet. I'm so scared that if I say it, he'll back out. What if he doesn't say it back? Will I care? I probably will, and I'll probably panic and end up doing something stupid. But I need to say something to save the situation.

"I know we haven't talked about it, but is it okay if I call you my boyfriend?" It feels weird having to ask, but it just doesn't feel right without asking.

"Of course! What have you been calling me?"

"Oh, um, just my Edward, I guess…" I say awkwardly. Am I the only one who's been scared of being too forward in this relationship? "What have you been calling me?"

"My girlfriend."

"For how long?"

He thinks for a second before saying, "About two weeks."

Huh. While I've been chickening around with taking this step, he's already way ahead of me in the relationship curve. Why doesn't that surprise me?

"Alright, then."

There is a short pause before Edward says, "Bella?"

"Yeah."

"My butt is kinda freezing. Mind if we stand up?"

I laugh. "Aww, of course, sweetie!"

With each other's support, we manage to stand up and dust off most of the snow, which is still steadily drifting from the sky.

Edward is still brushing his pants when I surprise him with a hug. My arms wrap around his torso, and I hold him as tightly as I can.

"I wish you could have met my father," I say quietly into his chest. "I bet you would have liked him." The heaviness surrounding my heart has eased up a little, and it feels even lighter as Edward's arms surround me.

"If he was anything like you, I bet I would have," he answers, his nose resting in my hair.

"He was not like me at all, actually." I laugh as I remember Charlie's love for fish, and how I used to detest the disgusting smell accompanying his hobby.

"What was he like?" Edward asks as we slowly start walking back out of the cemetery.

"Well, he was quiet and stubborn and didn't really like to express himself much. He loved fishing, and he used to hunt a lot with the Quileutes down on the reservation." I continue telling Edward stories of Charlie as we walk home. I tell him about the time I said goodbye to him before moving to Arizona with Renee. I tell him about how his mustache used to twitch whenever he was trying not to laugh, which happened a lot when he tried to scare Emmett out of dating me. I somehow manage to get a lot of information about my father on the short walk from the cemetery to my home, and with each story I tell Edward, my heart feels a little lighter.

When we get to the house, it's dark and silent, and I assume the others have gone to bed. I look at the clock hanging in the living room and see it's well past midnight.

With a smile on my face, I lead Edward upstairs and to my bedroom. "We should really get ready for bed…" I say suggestively. Edward smirks and leans in for a long, soft kiss. The closer we get to my bedroom, the more heated the kiss becomes. The blanket drops to the floor somewhere along the way, and we slowly start removing each other's clothes. The cheerleaders in my head make their appearance, practically shouting that there are no excuses left; he doesn't need to go home to study, there are no group meetings scheduled, and there's no school in the morning. We're going to be sharing a bed together all night, so we might as well make the most of it.

Edward stubs his toe on the door frame, which makes me chuckle as I pull him farther into the room. He starts pulling up my top while kicking the door shut. I'm so warm that I've long forgotten the freezing temperature outside. I cling to him as I grasp at his clothes, trying to get more contact.

Just as I manage to tear off his sweater, revealing his toned stomach, we fall onto the bed, him on top of me. The air whooshes out of me, but we just laugh and continue our fervent kiss. Our breaths pick up, and Edward starts trailing his lips along my chin and down the slope of my neck while his fingers trail just underneath my bra. I want him so badly that I start grinding against him and find a well-formed bulge to rub up against. My hands trail down his back, down his sides, and to the front of his pants to remove his belt.

That's when we hear it.

The giggle. Coming from the next room.

Edward stops abruptly, his lips still on my collarbone. There are high-pitched squeals coming from the other side of the wall, but I have a hard time placing the source. I can't for the life of me imagine who it might be, or why they're squealing. My mind is still a couple of inches south of my bellybutton. That is, until Edward suddenly springs to his feet, looking like he's just seen a ghost.

"It's…" He has no words, just stares at me, as if he's searching my eyes for answers.

"Jasper!" the voice squeaks from the other room, and then everything clicks.

Alice and Jasper are having sex.

I laugh as I approach Edward where he's standing next to the bed. "Sweetie, does it really matter? We can probably out-moan them."

Edward cringes. "It's… Alice…" he whispers.

Fuck. I forgot about the small matter of the sibling factor. Of course he's not in the mood when he can hear is little sis being plowed into.

"Ah, hun, it's okay," I try as I stroke his back. "Do you have your iPod or something somewhere?"

Edward looks so lost, like he doesn't quite what to do, until there's another loud squeal. Then he snaps into action and starts striding towards the door, and I can just see him ready to invade the master bedroom and tear Jasper a new one.

I manage to grab his arm just in time. "Don't! You really don't want to see that. It's much worse than hearing it, I'm sure!"

Edward cringes again, turns around and buries his head in my shoulder.

"Do you have your iPod somewhere?" I ask again.

"I left it in the car," he mumbles.

"Then use mine. Go to bed, I'll dig it up for you."

Edward obliges; he crawls under the sheets and immediately buries his head under the pillow, squeezing hard. I hand him my iPod before I change into my pajamas. I debate whether or not I should sneak into the bathroom to brush my teeth, but the noises of the other couple are getting louder and more disturbing, so I decide to snuggle in next to Edward instead and try my best to ignore the sounds.

I'm not able to sleep until after they've stopped moaning, but to my relief, I see that Edward fell asleep at some point. I feel so irritated at being cock-blocked by Alice that I almost want to kick her out of the house.

I knew there was a reason why taking Alice along on this trip was a bad idea.


	18. The Gratitude and... Love?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on SiK: Bella and the gang take a trip to Forks for Charlie's memorial. Unfortunately, Bella was only expecting Edward to come with her, but the more the merrier, right? Right. Bella takes Edward to the cemetery and tells him about Charlie. They officially become a couple (finally) and almost celebrate it back in Bella's bedroom, that is until Edward's baby sister is oh-so-not a baby next door, which is not exactly a turn-on for him...

 

Someone is knocking on the door downstairs. I think about answering it, but I listen as the muffled sound of… Kate? Yeah, I think it's her answering the door. The world is a little hazy as I try to gather my bearings. The mass underneath me moves and grumbles, turning more towards me, and suddenly I'm trapped under an arm, and a warm breath fans across my face.

Ugh, morning breath.

It's not too bad, though. It's totally worth the snuggle. I bury my face closer towards his, our noses almost touching.

"Morning," Edward says, his voice groggy and dead sexy.

"Morning," I answer, though I don't want it to be morning yet. I want to sleep for a couple of more minutes. I don't want the day to begin.

Soft lips brush against mine, and the morning immediately looks a lot better. Smiling, I kiss him back, slowly, passionately, trying to ignite the same good mood his kiss lit within me. Before long, he has rolled on top of me, smirking down at me. His mop of auburn hair is all sticking to the left.

"Morning, indeed," I say, wiggling my hips as my groin is in contact with his wood. And just like that, last night's fire is burning hot and heavy again. Hands explore, mouths devour, hips grind, and only a couple of minutes later, I find myself wearing little else than a pair of panties.

My hands trail down his back, sneaking into his boxer briefs, as Edward's warm tongue tastes and teases my nipple. He moves down my body, marking me with soft kisses along my stomach. The sheet pulls down with him, leaving me vulnerable to the chilly February air of the room. However, I hardly notice it as all my focus is moving lower and lower, to where Edward is goading me with his fingers, stroking so close to where I want them. I writhe in agony, trying to make my center come in contact with those long fingers of his, but he just chuckles and gently bites at my hip.

"Bell—" A girl's voice says before emitting a loud shriek. "Oh dear god, I did NOT want to see that!" Kate shouts as she quickly closes the door again.

Mortified, I grab the sheet and try to cover myself, even though it's far too late. Edward doesn't dare move where he's half hidden underneath the covers, his face buried in my stomach. Even though we're alone in the room again, I can't help but cover my face in shame.

"Why did we bring the others with us, again?" I ask, shaking my head. I  _really_  wish we had left them all in Seattle.

Edward crawls back up my body, trying to suppress a smile. "Does it really matter? I mean, they're probably not going to barge in here again after that…" He dips his head and starts kissing my neck, obviously trying to loosen me up a little. My whole body is rigid, though I have to admit that the way his thumb keeps stroking back and forth over my hip and down to the apex of my thigh is really turning me on.

I almost give into the temptation, but it's thwarted by a knock on the door.

"Um, Bella?" Kate says timidly. "There's a woman here to see you. Actually, let's make that two. They have food, and they want to talk to you. Should I… Do you want me to tell them you're… um… busy?"

Edward groans into the nape of my neck, his forehead resting on my shoulder. I stifle my own groan, and answer, "No, I'll be right out. Just… eh, just have to get dressed."

There's no reply from Kate.

"I'm sorry," I whisper to Edward. "It will have to wait a better time, I guess."

Begrudgingly, he frees me from his clasp, and I start getting dressed.

"Bella?" Edward asks suddenly as I'm putting on my bra.

"Yes?"

"Do you have a turtleneck or a scarf or something?"

I turn to look at him. "Why?"

He's trying to suppress a grin when he calmly answers, "I seem to have left a mark." His hand touches a spot on his neck, and my fingers immediately fly up to my own.

"No! You didn't!" I gasp, turning around to look into the mirror on my dresser. Sure enough, there's a faint red mark somewhat beneath my left ear.

"I did," he says, laughing. "Actually, there is more than one…"

I look at his reflection in the mirror and find him looking at my butt, and my first thought is that he left a mark there somewhere.

"But you were nowhere near my butt!" I shriek, but Edward shakes his head.

"It's on the other side…"

Confused, I think he's talking about the other butt-cheek, until I finally realize what he means. I look down, and right there, on my right hip, is another mark. This one is a lot redder than the one on my neck.

"Christ, Edward! Were you trying to eat me or something?"

Edward laughs. "Actually..."

I roll my eyes and grumble at him, totally not amused by this. I'm just grateful that the one on my hip won't be difficult to hide. What to do with the one on my neck, however, I have no idea. I pull up my jeans and throw on an old band T-shirt I had never bothered to take with me when I moved out of the room. As I'm about to throw up my hair into a messy ponytail, I remember that that's not a good idea and decide to quickly braid it down over my left shoulder. That should be able to hide the hickey. I put on a little concealer for good measure.

Having a hickey is for fifteen-year-olds. It's simply not cool when you're twenty-one.

Edward is still laughing when I leave the room and go downstairs.

"There she is!" Alice exclaims as she sees me enter the living room. I look around and see that the rest of the inhabitants are already up, and there are two women in their fifties chatting with Alice and Jasper.

"Mrs. Crowley, Mrs. Stanley, how nice to see you," I say politely, reaching out my hand to greet them, but my hand is swatted away by Mrs. Crowley as she pulls me into a hug. I'm pretty sure I've only met the woman a handful of times, so this feels a bit intruding to my personal space, but Mrs. Crowley is and always has been a no-bullshit kind of woman.

I tentatively hug her back, and when it's Mrs. Stanley's turn, I'm glad to find that she's quite happy with just shaking hands.

"These ladies brought a casserole and some bread for you," Alice announces cheerfully as we all take our seat.

"We heard you were in town, dear, and we didn't want you and your friends to starve to death, or have to survive on those dreadful microwave pizzas all weekend," Mrs. Crowley says.

"We also, along with a couple of other girls from the church choir, whipped up some things for the memorial service, so you don't have to worry about a thing," Mrs. Stanley adds in her nasally voice.

I don't quite know what to say to them, so I just thank them for all their hard work.

Alice is quite happy with taking on the role of making sure there are no awkward silences. She keeps the ladies engaged for the better part of an hour while I nod and agree whenever their attention is turned to me. They tell stories of Charlie from when he was a teenager—and even recollect a couple of stories of Jasper's folks as well.

Just as the women are leaving, I see Sue Clearwater walking across the street. She's probably the only woman I'm actually happy to see in this town, aside from Mrs. McCarty. I wait with the door open until she reaches me and welcome her with a warm hug—one which I give quite willingly.

"Hi, Isabella," Sue says kindly as she strokes my cheek, as if she's taking in my appearance, checking me for signs of stress. "I'm glad to see you're doing well, my dear."

"You too, Sue. How are Leah and Seth? Does Leah still live here?" I ask, curious. Even though they live just across the street, I never really got to know Leah and Seth, mostly because of the age gap. Leah is two years older than me, and Seth is three years my junior. There had also always been a kind of rumors about Leah, which made her somewhat reclusive and antisocial. Actually, she's known in this town for her bitchy attitude.

"She moved back home a couple of months ago. It was something about a bad break-up, though I never got the full story."

I move our conversation to the kitchen, and only then do I fully realize how clichéd this town is; the dinner table is covered in all sorts of containers and baskets with food ranging from muffins to pot roasts.

"Oh dear," I mutter as I gaze over the heavy-laden table. "Where did all this food come from?"

"I know," Kate says pensively. "I had no idea what to do with all this stuff. Like, do we even try to drive with it all the way to Seattle tomorrow?"

"Don't worry yourselves about it, girls," Sue says. "You can try to take some of it to the memorial service later, and then we can go over it tonight and pack up everything you can take with you and freeze. The rest you can freeze here, then you'll have food when you return." As she says this she has already gone and dug out containers and the vacuum wrap.

I have always liked Sue. For a while I thought her and Dad had maybe been starting something, but as far as I know, nothing ever came of that. It was too bad, actually, because I waited for a long time for my dad to show any signals of getting over my mother.

Just as Edward comes walking down the stairs, Kate announces that Emmett's mother has invited us all for lunch.

"Oh, would you mind going ahead without me?" I ask. "I'd like to catch up with Sue for a bit." I smile apologetically to Edward, hoping he'll be fine without me. He should be, since he'll still have Alice and the rest of the gang to keep him company. For some reason, I still feel pretty bad for deserting him in my home town.

Before I let them go, however, I wave Edward over. "Edward, I want you to meet Sue," I say as he approaches us in the kitchen. "Sue is really the one who takes care of the house while I'm away," I explain, and my throat constricts a little. I'm so grateful to have Sue helping me take care of things, because after Charlie's death, my main priority has been to keep myself together, not the house or the finances or anything. Of course I've had to suck it up and be responsible, but Sue is the one who has helped me through that.

"Sue, this is my…" I pause for a second before I continue with a smile, "…boyfriend, Edward." I snake my hand around him, his arm immediately going around my shoulder. His other hand reaches out to greet Sue.

"Edward Masen, nice to meet you," he says in his most charming voice.

To my relief, Sue seems delighted to meet Edward as well. I know she has a flurry of questions she wants to ask, but before she even gets a response to "And where are you from, Edward?" Kate and the others call for him, telling him they're going to Emmett's.

Edward looks as if he doesn't want to be rude by leaving, but both Sue and I assure him that it's quite alright he goes with the others.

"So, Edward. Is that a new development?" Sue asks as everyone is out the door.

I smile. "Kind of, yeah. We've been friends for a while and have been dating for a couple of weeks," I explain before I launch into the story of me and Edward. I don't go into too many details, of course, but I tell her about the romantic dates, the nights in and such.

Eventually, our talking turns to the house and what my plans are with it. My throat constricts yet again at the thought of living here alone, and I don't have any answers ready for Sue.

"Here is an idea, dear," Sue begins. "How about we turn it into a bed and breakfast? I can help you clean and set up the bedrooms, and the study can probably be converted into a small room. The stuff you want to keep can be kept in the garage if we can't use it in here. We can come up with a room rating, and I can run it while you are away at school. That way the house won't swallow all your money while it stands empty. How does that sound?"

I stare at her for a few moments with tears in my eyes. I don't think I can ever repay her kindness to me in the last year, and she continues to keep me afloat in ways I least expect. "That sounds wonderful," I finally manage, and I engulf her in my arms in gratitude. "Thank you," I whisper into her shoulder.

"It's nothing," she says as she gently pats me on the back before releasing me. "We can discuss the details and get cracking the next time you visit. Just promise me you won't wait as long this time."

"I promise." I grab a tissue and wipe under my eyes.

Sue pats my cheek and looks me in the eye. "Your father would have been so proud of you."

"Please don't make me cry more," I say half-pathetically, trying to smile at her.

She grabs my hand and squeezes it. "You should get going and meet up with your friends."

And that I do.

* * *

 

The air outside is calm and cool, but I still wrap my coat tighter around me to protect myself from it. Or maybe I'm just protecting myself against the world. It's been an emotional day, and I'm glad it's coming to an end. As grateful as I am that the people of this town decided to hold a memorial for my father, a year after his death, it still is pretty emotionally exhausting to have someone constantly picking at the scab in my heart.

Mrs. McCarty persuaded me to check out the service with them, so I put on my best clothes and went with the gang to the local community house. The number of people there was overwhelming, and the air was warm and stuffy inside. I played the good daughter and said hi to as many people as I could, but after half an hour, I'd had enough and left.

My friends are still inside, however. They really enjoy the free food. Besides, the service itself is not too bad. I don't even know why they call it a "service." There is no schedule or anything; it's just food, some music playing in the background, and a bunch of people talking about my dad. It's really lovely, but as at peace I have become with his death, I cannot handle many more reminders of my loss.

Arms hug me from behind, and Edward's warm nose snuggles into my neck.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

My head falls back on his shoulder, and my whole body relaxes. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just about ready to go home, though."

We stand silently outside the community hall and watch as delicate snowflakes start drifting from the sky. I am so very content in this moment that I don't want to move from the spot.

Suddenly, the door opens and Kate comes walking through. "There you guys are! We thought you'd done a runner," she says.

"Nah, I just needed a break," I say, smiling gently.

"The people in this town are really friendly!" Kate says enthusiastically. "I don't think I've ever hugged so many strangers in one day, and I'm a huggable person!"

I laugh. "Yeah, they're pretty great."

"Oh, but there's this one girl," Kate continues immediately, barely even registering Bella's response. "She's done nothing but stand in her corner by the food and sneer at people. I saw that Sue person trying to talk to her earlier, but she hasn't moved one bit since we came."

I wrack my brain on who this sullen girl might be, and a handful of people come to mind. The Stanley girl, Jessica's younger sister, and Leah Clearwater are at the top of my list.

Edward shivers behind me. "I think I'm gonna go inside for a bit. I'm freezing out here."

I decide to go with him, and the three of us venture back into the stale air inside. We talk to a few more people, mingle by the buffet, and laugh with Emmett and Jasper, who seem to be hosting a contest on who can tell the funniest Charlie story. I watch Kate flirt with a tall, dark-haired guy, which makes me wonder if her and Garrett are actually over. I've suspected as much for a few weeks, judging by his absence, but no matter how I've tried to approach the subject, Kate has never admitted to anything. But then again, she never admitted that they were dating.

The dark-haired guy has apparently pulled out all his tricks, because Kate looks positively charmed. It isn't until I see Leah pull at his arm, furiously whispering something in his ear, that I see his face. It's Seth Clearwater, Leah's seventeen year old brother.

"Cradle robber," I say mockingly as Kate saunters over to me, staring daggers at Leah.

She stares at me for a moment. "What?"

"Did he tell you he's seventeen?"

Her eyes widen. "He said he was twenty-five and a manager at Olive Garden in Silverdale!"

I snort. "He's still in high school and works part time for the local mechanic!"

"Ugh, whatever. Apparently Miss Prissy-Pants doesn't approve." Kate continues to look at Leah in contempt, and by the looks of things, Leah dislikes Kate just as much.

"You want to go home? We've probably been here long enough to not offend anybody, and you've mingled and everything..." Kate suggests.

I think about it for a second before deciding that, yeah, I would very much like to leave. We've spent three hours here already, and I have just about greeted everybody there, even those I didn't really know. Not that I feel like I know anyone in this town anymore.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea," I say as Edward walks towards us.

"Okay! I'll gather the others," Kate replies.

"Oh, you don't have to do that. They can stay for as long as they'd like."

Edward's arm settles around my shoulder, and he says, "I'm pretty sure everyone is just about ready to leave as well. There's only so much food people can take. Though maybe Emmett would beg to differ..."

The three of us laugh, and the sound is very refreshing. Kate's laugh is perhaps a little too loud, but it is probably too late to teach her to lower her voice in delicate situations.

"Okay, guys, you just go ahead, and we'll catch up," Kate suggests.

When Kate leaves, Edward and I make our way to the cloak room to pick up our coats. I dig into the pockets of my jacket and grab my gloves and scarf. I'm not used to winters getting so cold in Seattle, and it's been a long time since I've felt the need to be so dressed for outside.

Meanwhile, Edward buttons up his own coat and pops up the collar.

As we start walking, Edward grabs my hand and removes the glove. He weaves our fingers together and puts them into his pocket, and we walk like that on the way to my house. The gesture is sweet. I enjoy the warmth of his fingers as they caress my own.

We don't speak as we walk. The sound of the breeze in the surrounding trees reminds me of when I was little and actually tried to hear words in the wind after watching Pocahontas. The noises of nature have always been appealing to me, and it's probably one of the few things I miss the most about this town when I'm in Seattle.

We had almost reached my house when all of the sudden Edward yells out, having been hit in the back with a couple of snowballs. "Fuck!" he shouts, shaking out the bits that fell into his collar.

I turn around and see Emmett and Jasper keeling over with laughter. The girls stand by and giggle at the scene, and I can't help but grin myself.

Edward quickly bends down and scoops up a good amount of snow, kneading it into a ball. "Come on, Bella, you have to help me!" he says, a devious glint in his eye.

I don't have to be told twice, and I kneel to help him gather snow.

Before we know it, snowballs are flying all around the street, girly screams and masculine swearing overpowering the sounds of nature. Though what could be more natural than the playful fight between friends?

"Two against five is hardly fair!" I shout at them as I attempt to hit them. Sadly, my aim is horrible.

"Well, that's what you get for not waiting up!" Kate shouts back.

I laugh. As if they wouldn't have turned against us even if we'd left as a group.

"You told us to just go ahead, remember?" I yell.

The seven of us end up in my backyard building a snowman. Jasper, Emmett and Edward compete at who can make the biggest ball for the base, and as I watch them scouring the garden for more snow, I wonder if we'll actually end up with a snowman. It looks like it will end up as three balls...

I sit on the steps of the back-porch and watch them play around. This day has brought out the observer in me, as I prefer to watch rather than be included. It is oddly comforting to see all my friends having such fun and knowing that they make me smile, even when I'm standing on the outside.

When the guys decide that they are no longer interested in making a snowman and mash the giant balls together, Rosalie comes over and sits next to me. Her presence is a little unnerving as I've never really interacted with her, but I try to seem friendly nonetheless.

Rosalie looks at me for a moment before saying, "So, you and Edward. How is that going?"

I grin. "It's going great. I really like him."

She nods, looking pensively at the group playing in the yard. "You do know about his history, right? That he usually has more than one girlfriend hanging around him?"

My smile falters, and I say hesitantly, "Yes. I know about his history. What is it to you?"

I'm a little offended by her meddling, as I hardly know her, but I try to not make it show.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, it's none of my business," she apologizes. "I just... Emmett has told me so much about you and... well, there's really no way to say this without it sounding a little... strange, but… I just want you to watch out for yourself."

Yeah, that does sound strange. And just a little creepy.

Rosalie continues. "I realize that we haven't really gotten to know each other, but I feel that I can relate to certain events in your life. When I learned about your father's death and then heard about Edward getting it on with some girl in your bedroom at the Halloween party... it struck a chord with me."

I can't even think of anything to say to her. Rosalie has always been distant and guarded around me, though other people swear that she's cool.

When I don't respond, Rosalie starts again. "Listen, my sister was very vulnerable when our dad died, and I watched as a complete asshole took advantage of her. There wasn't much I could do at the time, since I was only ten, but she has never really recovered, and I would hate to see that happen to you. I don't know Edward well enough to trust him."

I narrow my eyes at her. I'm flattered that she has been watching over me, but I kind of resent the fact that she doesn't trust my judgment.

"Thank you, Rosalie" I say slowly, looking into her eyes to make sure that she knows I mean it. "You might not trust Edward, but I do. He has been very good to me and very patient."

Rosalie looks back at me and nods. "And you're sure he'll stick around, no matter what happens?"

As I ponder my response, I look at the others sitting around the giant balls in the yard. They are working together to make a snow sculpture—it's impossible to tell of what just yet. Edward and Alice are sitting together and teasing each other, both looking completely relaxed and happy.

"I can't predict the future, but after the last couple of days, I know that I want him around. I… He's really important to me."

Rosalie's blue eyes twinkle as she looks over at the crowd. "Alright." Then she smiles and looks back at me. "You can call me Rose, by the way."

 


	19. The Breaking Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on SiK: Bella and Edward are cockblocked again, this time by Kate and some nosy older ladies from Forks. Sue and Bella come up with a plan to convert the house into a bed & breakfast. The gang stuff themselves at Charlie's memorial service, and Kate clashes with Leah (maybe because she was hitting on Seth, Leah's 17 year old brother). Rose and Bella bond.

_**Sunday** _

The tension is killing me. Edward and I have barely had time for ourselves this entire weekend. Kate and Alice decided to have a proper night in last night, so we were forced to camp out in the living room with them and Jasper for the entire evening. Don't get me wrong, the night was lovely. Edward and I just really want some alone time, if you know what I mean.

Edward woke me up this morning by stroking my cheek so sweetly—which totally made me melt. It was such a loving gesture, and after we shared a long, barely awake kiss, he suggested we'd go upstairs to continue what we had started the previous morning. I didn't have to be asked twice.

Just as we reached the door to my room, we heard the others stir downstairs, and Alice, the crazy morning person, immediately rushed into the kitchen, where she got started with breakfast. Edward tried to convince me that no one would notice our absence and we'd just be quiet, but as luck would have it, the fire alarm went off as soon as our shirts were.

Since then, Edward has barely had to look at me to make me squirm in my seat. His gaze is hooded as he watches me clean up after the gang, and I can practically feel his eyes watching my butt when I bend over. If he's standing close, he gently brushes up against it, either with his hand or with his crotch, positively driving me insane!

"That's clean enough, don't you think?" Edward whispers into my ear at one point as I'm trying to wash some of the dishes from breakfast. He stands behind me and kisses the sensitive skin behind my ear.

I shiver at the warm breath heating up my neck. His hands travel down my sides, one coming to the front and brushing between my thighs, making me growl.

"Um… yeah…" I mutter, my head falling back on his shoulder as I revel in the pleasure of his fingers. I have waited long enough for Edward to be ready for sex—god knows what's been up with him and the celibacy in our relationship—and I'm aching for his touch.

I grab a handful of his sweater, my hand still wet from the dishwashing, and drag him with me into the washing room beside the kitchen. Edward stumbles behind me, but he seems just as eager to be alone with me.

The dryer is on, providing a solid sound buffer for us if we decide to be loud. Hands fumble around, clothes come flying off, and I scramble to open up the belt buckle on his jeans. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I'm sad that our first time together is probably going to be quick, but I'm so fired up by need and built up sexual frustration that I don't care.

Our teeth clank together as we try to devour each other, and we only separate for a few seconds at a time in order to focus on the de-clothing task. Edward lifts me up on the washing machine, which is sadly turned off. His hands fly down to my breasts, stroking and teasing them under my bra.

His mouth travels down my neck and to my collarbone as I decide I can't wait much longer and plunge my hand into his boxers. His dick is hard and warm in my palm as I start stroking it. Edward moans into my skin, and his hips buck into my palm. His jeans restrict my movement so I push them down as I continue pumping him.

Of course, since we're not meant to catch a break, someone flings the door open, and Alice shouts, "My eyes! My eyes!" a few seconds later.

"Holy FUCK!" Edward yells, enraged by the intrusion.

I yank my hand out of his underpants and try my best to carefully hide my body from Alice's view. Edward's hands dig into my thighs, and I know he's trying to restrain himself from turning around and yelling at his sister.

"I'm sorry!" Alice yells. "I didn't know you were in there! I swear! Oh, I so didn't want to see that," she groans.

"Just leave, please," Edward growls between his teeth.

"Oh, of course, sure, no problem." She turns around to go, but stops. Her head turns a little towards us, but not all the way. "Um… yeah, we're about ready to leave, just wanted to let you know." Then she closes the door, and Edward and I are left alone.

"I don't think I've ever wanted to hit your sister more than right this minute," I say.

A few minutes later, Edward and I are dressed and composed enough to meet up with the others in the living room. Alice carefully avoids our gaze, and I think Edward is avoiding hers as well. He is by no means a happy camper at the moment, and I myself am kind of grumpy as well.

Everyone is packed, the floors have been swept, and the food is all gathered up and sorted into stuff that will stay in the freezer and stuff coming with us.

"So," Kate starts as she comes back from the washroom. "I think we're all ready. Are we ready?" she asks, looking between Edward, Jasper, Alice and me.

We all nod.

"I think so," Alice says, and I agree.

We call Emmett and Rose to make sure they're ready as well, as they're taking half of our group with them. While we wait for them, I walk over to Sue's house to quickly go over what needs to be done in preparation to turn my house into a bed and breakfast. I plan on returning to Forks in a month's time or so to help her paint and organize things for the summer season.

Before long, all cars are loaded, and we're ready to go.

The ride home has never been longer. My loins are burning, I'm so damn horny, and it's damn awkward sharing a car with a clueless Kate. Edward keeps putting his hand on my thigh, teasing me as it slowly trails upwards, but I always slap him away. I'm too pent up to tolerate such teasing.

Somewhere on the way, Alice calls Kate and informs her that the people in the other car are planning to come over for dinner. It is most likely Emmett's idea and his way of getting more free food.

Edward and I look at each other as the plans are finalized and grimace. We certainly don't need another evening with the others.

Edward leans over and whispers, "Don't worry, I have a plan."

I look at him, puzzled, but he just winks.

As the car slides into a parking space near our building, Edward speaks up. "Hey, Kate? Is it okay if I borrow Bella for just a couple of minutes? I have something at home I need to show her…"

Kate looks between the two of us, and I try to show my most encouraging look.  _Please, I_ need _to be alone with him!_

Realization dawns on her. "Oh! Oh sure, yes, of course, no problem. I'll see you both later!" she says quickly as she gathers her stuff out of the car.

I settle back in my seat when she's gone. "That was clever of you."

Ten minutes later, we drive up to a large, two-story building in West Queen Anne. The clear-cut style looks modern in the gray and rainy environment, and the Puget Sound is the perfect backdrop for it. The size is impressive, and it is finally clear to me that Edward is not one of those people who struggle for money. Maybe it should have been obvious before, with the brand new silver Volvo and the amount of times he has taken me to nice restaurants.

As Edward leads me inside, I'm distracted by the newness of his home. The decor inside is simplistic, impersonal and kind of cold. I remember Edward once telling me that he lived alone with his father, which probably explains the complete lack of decorations. This is a bachelor pad, no doubt.

Edward turns around in front of the staircase, not far away from the foyer, and leans in for a kiss. It's slow and sensual but has a hint of the pent up sexual energy we have been harnessing this weekend. He steps closer and deepens the kiss as one hand comes up to my neck and clutches my head behind my ear. His other hand is pressing on my back, connecting my body with his.

A soft moan escapes me, and I briefly wonder if his father might be home. I pull myself away from Edward. "Are we alone?" I whisper.

"Yeah," he says between kisses. "Dad's working the night shift. He won't be here until the morning."

That's enough explanation for me, so I follow Edward as he blindingly guides us up the stairs and into a bedroom. I can only assume it's his, since I'm too distracted to take in the environment. Hey, who cares about decorations when there's a hot guy taking off his clothes standing right in front of you?

I'm lost in his kisses and the feel of his naked chest against my soon-to-be-naked one.

Edward rips off my shirt and smiles. "Ah, you're wearing my favorite bra."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I'd stolen more of your clothes," I joke.

"Ha ha. I meant my favorite on you. Though I'm pretty sure all your bras are my favorite on you..." he mutters between kisses.

I laugh and step away slightly. "So you'd prefer it if I keep it on?"

Edward's eyes widen, and then a look of determination sets on. "Hell no." He brings me closer and tackles the clasp on the back. In two seconds flat, the bra is discarded and forgotten on the floor.

Hands are everywhere, frantically trying to discard every scrap of clothing left as he backs us farther into the room. Just as I manage to unclasp his belt-buckle, we fall onto the bed. I try to straddle him, but before I can take advantage of my position, he takes control and rolls us over. My legs immediately hook around his hips, every minute making me need him more.

His dick is hard-I feel it poking me between my legs as he thrusts against me. My clothes feel too warm, and my skin is clammy. As Edward's hands descend down my body and down my thighs, I stop focusing on his lips tasting mine and help him get rid of my yoga pants.

Edward stumbles as the pants get tangled around my legs. "Fuck," he mutters. He sits up to get a better look, and I immediately miss the warmth of his body so close to me.

The pants put up a fight, and even though I try to help Edward with my feet, nothing is working. One powerful and accidental kick to the stomach makes him gasp, but just when I'm about to apologize and ask if he's okay, he rips off the pants. His own quickly follow suit, along with his boxers.

I marvel at his toned body and the wisp of auburn hair running down from his belly button to his erect dick. Edward looks at me like he's looking at a well-accomplished task, even though I'm still wearing underwear. We stare at each other as it dawns on us that we are alone in this house and no one will walk in on us. The crooked smile grows wider and wider, and I'm sure my own face shows something similar. Then when his teeth start to show, Edward's brow drops, and he looks like a wild animal getting ready to kill its prey.

The intense look in his eyes make my privates tingle in anticipation.

He sure takes his time standing and watching me, until I finally lose my patience.

"Edward, are you going to stand there and stare at me, or are you going to fuck me?"

Edward growls in response, and then in two quick moves, he hooks his fingers into my panties and drags them down my legs, leaving me completely bare. His eyes sweep down my body, and I feel a trail of warmth where his gaze falls. My nipples prickle in need for his touch. His dick twitches, and I can't wait any longer.

I sit up slightly and reach for his hands, dragging him down to the bed. My skin is slick against his as he makes his way up my body, his tongue leaving a trail in its path. I writhe beneath him, my hips trying to make contact with him. His lips search for mine, and I feel him between my legs as I hook them around his hips again. There is no way I'll allow him to get away from me now. I want him, and damn it, I will have him.

My hand makes contact with his dick and starts stroking, still remembering the feel of him from this morning. It's warm and hard, and Edward grunts when I squeeze it. I'm so entirely focused on him that I gasp when I feel his fingers massaging my wet pussy. He teases me with feather light touches, refusing to give into the pressure I want. No matter how I try to show him with my iron grip on his dick that I want something rougher, he only breezes around my clit.

"Stop teasing me," I whine as I bite gently on his lip.

His laugh is breathy and distracted, but the smile tugs his lips away from my teeth.

"But it's so fun." He circles my clit again, making my legs clamp around him.

"Fine. I can play dirty, too." I let go of his dick, and I swear, he whimpers.

He lays his head on my shoulder and mumbles, "You win." His hip buckle again, and his dick comes into contact with my pussy. "I need you."

My hand finds hold in his hair, and I rub his scalp the way he likes it. "I need you, too."

He keeps rubbing himself up against me, letting out the occasional groan. Without quite expecting it, he slides into me. I gasp at the intrusion and wait for me to adjust to him. After a couple of slow thrusts, it starts feeling good, and I forget myself in the moment.

My toes curl, and I moan into Edward's neck. His breath is hot on my skin as he turns his head towards me and kisses me gently on the cheek. The feelings between us have changed from the teasing, rough mood to a gentle and slow rhythm. As much as I enjoyed the roughness, I feel like this moment is more intimate than the way it started.

Eventually I grow tired of the reserved movements and crave for more. "Please," I whisper. "I need more."

Edward's movements grow faster and more frantic. It's like he has finally let himself loose, allowing himself to go all the way.

With one hand still buried in his hair, I let the other trail down between us and start stroking. I know that I won't come unless I help myself along, and I would love it if I could come with him. After only two quick circles of my clit, my hand is pushed away by him and replaced by his thumb.

I hold on to him and meet his every thrust. The pressure on my clit feels wonderful in combination with the penetration. I can no longer articulate my need for more, so I just try to show him.

Edward seems to be just as incoherent as I am. "I... I... Ah..." he mumbles just before he goes rigid for a few seconds. Then he keeps thrusting and moving his hand, and a second later, I follow suit. The feel of his teeth scraping against my earlobe magnifies the climax, and my nails dig into his scalp and skin.

When I stop screaming in pleasure, Edward relaxes and falls on the bed beside me. I'm not ready for the distance yet, so I curl into his side, laying my hand across his chest. We lie together for a couple of minutes, trying to catch our breath. My skin is sticky with sweat, but instead of feeling icky and gross, I am content in lying in my stink with Edward.

"Crap," he suddenly mutters.

"What?"

"We forgot condoms."

Crap, indeed.

"I'm on the pill, so at least the birth-control is covered. Are you clean?"

"Yeah, I try to get tested regularly. I'm clean. You?"

Well, I haven't exactly been tested as often as I should have been. I certainly haven't gotten tested since the last time I had sex, which was also unprotected. Gosh, I really am dumb when it comes to sex.

"Um, I think so. It's been a while since I got tested..."

Edward hugs me tighter. "I'm sure we're fine."

My gut tells me that though we probably are, it still was stupid to be so careless. Not just now, but also almost two months ago.

We lie together for a while, just enjoying each other's closeness. His finger slowly drags along my arm lying on his chest. Eventually I start to feel cold, and I blindly reach behind me to find the covers. Noticing my efforts, Edward leans over me and wraps my in his sheets.

"I have something for you," he says, standing up.

I prop myself up in his bed, admiring his fine bottom as he walks across the room to his desk. He opens a drawer and pulls something out. It's wrapped in silver paper and has a neat red bow on it. He settles himself on the bed next to me and hands me the packet.

"What's this?"

His hand reaches up to cup my face, and he smiles. "Happy Valentine's day." He leans in and places a gentle kiss on my lips.

"It's Valentine's day?" I didn't even realize it's February fourteenth. "I didn't get you anything." I feel bad because he clearly thought of this before we left town.

"I don't mind. I just wanted to do something for you. Besides..." He comes closer and takes me in his arms. "This weekend you gave me so much. I feel a lot closer to you after getting to know more about your life in Forks."

I reach out and stroke his cheek. The love flowing through me is too powerful for me to be able to form words. I can't decipher the look in his eyes, but it's comforting and makes me briefly wonder if he feels it too.

"Come on, open it," he says.

I carefully remove the red bow and the paper. Underneath is a black rectangular box. As I open it, I gasp. It's a delicate silver charm bracelet, with a small silver Hello Kitty charm.

"It's perfect!" I gather it in my palm and get his help putting it on. As soon as the clasp is fastened, I throw my hands around his neck and straddle him. "Thank you so much!" I express my gratitude with a searing, slow kiss.

"I've seen your affinity to Hello Kitty, and when I saw this, I thought of you. Do you like it?"

"Are you crazy? I love it!" I raise my arm and marvel at the simplistic design. Who knew Hello Kitty could be so elegant?

I wiggle in Edward's arms, still thrilled by the perfect gift.

The movement invokes a twitch between my legs, and I look at Edward in wonderment.

Edward smiles and winks.

"Again? Already?"

His hands slide up my legs. When he reaches my hips, he moves me so I move up against him. There is a definite twitch now, and I get my answer.

The night is young, and we definitely make the most of it.

* * *

 

Daylight tries to break its way into the room, casting a grayish color around me. I turn around in the bed, burying my face in the sheets and breathing in Edward's scent. It's safe and warm, even though he's not by my side. I reach out my hand and try to feel around for him but find nothing.

I lie in bed for a while, waiting for Edward to return. After a while I notice faint kitchen noises coming from downstairs. I stand up, put on my panties and grab Edward's shirt. As soon as I open the bedroom door, I smell pancakes, and my stomach grumbles.

For some reason, I'm humming the tune to  _How I Met Your Mother_  as I walk down the stairs. Just when I reach the bottom, I hear voices. I can only assume this is Edward talking to his dad. The panties and shirt ensemble is a little too intimate for a first meeting with the boyfriend's father, so I turn and run upstairs to put on proper clothes.

Five minutes later and more nervous than ever, I'm standing outside the kitchen, listening to the two men talk.

"Forks, you say. Where's that?" The voice sounds familiar, but I can't place it.

"It's about three hours from here. It's tiny, but I liked it."

"And that had nothing to do with the girl?"

Edward chuckles. "Maybe it had something to do with the girl."

I decide this is the best time to make my presence known, before I get too embarrassed about whatever Edward could say about me.

Edward is smiling into the stove when I tentatively walk into the kitchen.

"Morning," I say quietly.

"Hey," Edward answers, looking up from his pancakes. "Bella, meet my dad." He gestures to the other person in the room. "Dad, this is Bella, my girlfriend."

Once again I feel giddy at the title.

Edward's dad looks remarkably like Edward himself, only shorter. His hair is darker, but just as unruly as his son's. The facial features are sharp like Edward's, but his eyes are dark blue.

"Good morning, Miss Bella. It's a pleasure to finally meet you," he greets and extends his hand. His lip twitches and forms the familiar crooked smile.

"Hello, Dr. Masen."

"Please, call me Matthew."

"Matthew," I repeat.

The morning is spent getting to know Edward's dad and eating his yummy pancakes. Edward and I hold hands beneath the table as Matthew grills me on my family and education. He is a friendly man, and every bit as charming as his son. Edward might not have grown up much around his real father, but there are definite character traits they have in common.

When I finally feel comfortable enough to pose some of my own questions, I start by asking where Matthew works.

"Seattle Grace Hospital," he replies.

I tense up. "Oh really? That's nice. I always get very nice service there."

Matthew laughs. "Edward told me you were clumsy. Do you go there a lot?"

I force a smile. This conversation is getting kind of close to an aspect of my life I'd rather not tell Edward about right now. "Um, maybe three times a year since I moved here. Fortunately my balance seems to come with age," I joke.

"Always to the ER?"

My hand underneath the table clutches tighter to Edward. How big is the hospital, exactly? Big enough so the head of oncology wouldn't know a normal ER doctor?

"Yeah, pretty much."

"You might have seen a friend of mine then!" Matthew says cheerfully. "Dr. Cullen is one of the senior residents there—a real fine doctor, if you ask me."

Seattle is too small. There must be enough doctors in this town for not everyone to know each other. Why does it have to be so that my boyfriend's father works with-and seems rather fond of-my former fuck-buddy? Sometimes I think the world hates me.

Edward's thumb strokes the back of my hand. I breathe deep and continue to answer Matthew's questions as pleasantly as I can. I know that I will eventually have to discuss my past with Carlisle with Edward, but doing it in front of his father is not the right time.


	20. The Altercation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on Simplicity is Key: Bella and Edward finally got to bang (woooo), and Bella got to meet Edward's dad (not at the same time, cuz that would be awkward...). AND! It turns out Carlisle is NOT Edward's dad, so everyone can rest easy now.

_**About two weeks later** _

My life is great, and I couldn't be happier. Edward and I have spent maybe half the nights since Valentine's Day in each other's arms, and the other half we stay separate only because we need to study for finals, which are just around the corner. Turns out that we can't keep our hands off each other when we're together. Funny how that has turned out.

Today is one of the days we have reserved for studying. It's probably just as good, because I'm not feeling very loving at the moment. My stomach has been bothering me lately, which has put me in the mood to spend the day curled up in bed and do nothing but eat ice cream. It's just too bad we don't have any.

Kate raises an eyebrow at me as she catches me staring into the fridge once again.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing. I didn't realize it was a PJ day today."

I don't acknowledge her poke at my attire and continue rummaging in the fridge.

"Why don't we have any food in this house?" I shift around a couple of milk cartons and spot a hidden treasure. "Oh yum! Rhubarb pie!" I grab the small container and a fork, and start hungrily shoving food into my mouth.

"Since when do we have rhubarb pie?" Kate makes some icky noises, but they don't faze me.

"I think I bought some last week," I say between mouthfuls. "I forgot I still had some left."

"Who the hell eats rhubarb, anyway? They're disgusting."

"Na-huh! They're delicious!"

"Whatever." Kate walks past me and opens the fridge. She goes through the contents and then brings out a bag of bagels and a cream cheese container.

"Oh, cream cheese! Can I have some?" I ask, excited.

Kate looks at me as if I've turned into an alien. "Really? On the pie?"

"Yeah. Don't you think it'll be awesome?"

"Not really, but help yourself."

"Oh, what would you know, you don't eat rhubarb pie," I say, winking at her.

Just as I spread the cheese onto my pie, I wonder why I've never thought of putting these two things together before. It has to be good. I mean, what's not to love?

It proves to be just as delicious as I thought. It isn't until I look up at Kate's disapproving look that I actually start thinking why it should be weird.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Kate asks, looking me up and down.

"What, just because I put cream cheese on my pie, something has to be wrong with me?" In the back of my mind I realize it probably is weird. I also realize it's not the first time in the last few weeks I've eaten something not exactly usual, especially for me. There was that time when I snacked on an entire pineapple by myself (well, Kate and Alice got a few bites as well), and I've never been able to eat more than a bite or two before.

Kate steps closer and puts her hand on my arm. "I'm only saying this because I care about you, but you've been eating a lot lately, and you're starting to put on weight."

I scoff. "No I'm not."

"Bella, have you stepped on a scale recently? Because it's definitely showing on your stomach," she says, poking me.

Huffing, I strut to the bathroom to find the scale. "Fine, I'll show you. I haven't put on weight!"

The scale is kind to me and only shows one-forty-eight—a pound more than the last time I stepped on it, three weeks ago.

"I've gained a pound, that is all!" I say as Kate walks in.

"But look at yourself in the mirror! Don't you see it?"

I do what she tells me, and sure enough, the mirror is not as forgiving as the scale. My tank is tighter than what I'm used to, and the band of my pajama pants cuts slightly into my hips.

"Maybe I'm just bloated because I'm getting my period..."

"Nah, that's not for another two weeks."

It's creepy how she knows when I have my period.

Wait.

I start counting backwards to when I last had it. It got a little messed up back in November when my gyno changed my birth control pill. I didn't get it again until middle of January, and nothing since then. That was about... seven weeks ago.

"Crap." I really, really want to believe my lack of female problems is due to stress.  _Please, God, let it be the stress!_

"What?" Kate asks.

"Um, actually, I haven't had it since January..."

"Oh." She assesses me carefully. "Well, maybe your body is just getting ready for an extra heavy flow or something..."

As much as I wish that would be true, we both know that there might be another cause.

We stand there, both staring at me in the mirror, and as the realization sinks in, a couple of tears roll down my cheeks. Then, true to my character, I straighten my back, determined to not let it get to me.

"It's just stress," I say and walk out of the bathroom. "I haven't had a great year, and finals are coming up. I'm way behind on my reading. I'd better go study."

Kate follows me to my bedroom.

"Bella, stop acting stupid. You know what this could mean. This needs to be dealt with as soon as possible."

I know that she's right, but I don't  _want_  to deal with this right now. "Just mind your own business, okay?" I say, probably a little too harshly.

Kate narrows her eyes at me, then leaves, almost slamming the door behind her.

For the next few hours I try to focus on Shakespeare, but my notes on Shylock are not exactly helping me at the moment. What's the deal with the pound of flesh again? When _The Merchant of Venice_  stops making sense, I irritably turn my attention to  _The Tempest_ , but whatever focus I had is long gone by now.

In frustration, I lie back on my bed. As much as I try not to think about it, I start calculating my period stats again.

My gyno warned me back in November that my new pills might affect my cycle. Of course she told me to start it when one cycle ended and another began, but maybe I messed it up? It would be very Bella-like to screw up simple instructions...

Fuck, she also told me they might not be effective for a couple of weeks after starting them.

I start stressing, my fingers twiddling on my stomach. I knew that I was supposed to use a condom for at least the first month on the new pills. Of course I knew it was stupid to have unprotected sex with Carlisle last Christmas, but I was too focused on my antibiotics rendering my pills ineffective. I did extensive research on it after the first time with Carlisle and found that it was a fallacy, so I stopped worrying about it.

Crap, why am I always this stupid?

My hands fly up to my face, and I shake my head about my stupidity. For a few minutes, my mind races, trying to come up with better possibilities. Maybe I forgot I had it? Nah, it would have fucked up my weekend in Forks if I'd had it on time.

Resigned, I lower my hands and stare at the ceiling.

_Pregnant._

I don't know where to begin to think about how it will affect my life. I didn't plan on going to grad school anyway, so it wouldn't ruin any plans there. But I'm too young to have a baby, right? I'm only twenty-one! And Edward and I have barely been dating for two months!

Shit. How am I supposed to tell Edward? Even though it wouldn't disrupt my academic life much, Edward still has four years ahead of him in medical school.

My hand absentmindedly strokes my stomach, and when I realize what I'm doing, I start wondering if there's actually something alive in there. It seems so unrealistic, and maybe my mind is making it up, but I think I feel a little bump forming on my abdomen.

A vague picture forms in my mind of me, playing with a little girl in the park. The more we play, the clearer the picture becomes. The dark locks of the kid remind me of myself when I was little, and she's wearing my old pink dress, decorated with a delicate rose pattern and white frills. She runs around in the grass, her little feet bare. The sun colors her hair, so it appears to have auburn highlights. Whenever she turns around to look at me, I admire the wonderfully green eyes and the sweet laughter. When I finally catch her, we roll around in the grass, and for a second, I'm blinded by the sun. When I look at my daughter again, I'm shocked to see her hair color has changed again and is now blond.

When she runs off again, I follow her, though I hardly recognize her. She keeps running around the park, but eventually runs up to a man, who cheerfully picks her up. Afraid that some stranger is coming to take her, I run harder. The man turns away from me, but I try to catch him. The sun is still playing tricks on my eyes, as his hair keeps flickering from red to white. Even though he's just walking, he's still miles ahead of me, and I never seem to get any closer.

I run faster. I scream after him. I call out to my daughter, whose name I still don't know. She laughs and claps her hands, but the man doesn't turn around. I'm so close to catching him. I reach out my hand, trying to touch his shoulder.

I wake up gasping for air. My hair is clammy, and I feel warm, even though I'm on top of the covers. My chest keeps heaving as I try to calm myself. It takes me a moment to realize it was only a dream.

The dread is still evident in the pit of my stomach, and it's clear that I have to find out for sure.

The living room is quiet when I enter in search for Kate. When I can't find her in the kitchen either, I walk up to her door and tentatively knock. I'm pretty sure she's a bit miffed at me, which is totally understandable.

"Come in." Her voice is muffled.

I slowly open the door and enter. "Hey," I say quietly. "I'm sorry about before. I think I was in shock or something."

"Understandably," she answers curtly. She doesn't even look up from the book she's reading on her bed.

I guess I deserve the attitude. That doesn't stop me from crawling into bed with her and curling up next to her. Her arm encircles me and brings me closer.

"I don't think I'm ready for this. No matter what conclusion I come to, the decision is life-altering. But yeah, I need to know."

She softly strokes my hair. "Do you want me to come with you to the drug store?"

I look up at her. "Please? I think I'd chicken out if I go alone."

Kate smiles. "No problem. Now, go get dressed so we can get this over with!"

She clearly means business; she shoos me out of the bed, shoves me into my own room and watches while I change clothes.

"Perv, much?" I ask as I drop my pajama bottoms.

Kate raises her eyebrow. "On you? Always."

* * *

 

The walk to Walgreens and back is quiet. Kate ends up paying for the pregnancy test because I'm too scared to admit this to a third person. My mind barely has time to settle on one thought when another "what if" replaces it. I can't even begin to think about Edward's reactions to the news, let alone what he'll say about who the real father is. We weren't dating at the time, but I still should have told him about my Christmas adventures a while ago.

When we get back to the apartment, Kate ushers me into the bathroom, not paying any attention to Alice sitting on the couch.

"What's up with you?" I hear Alice question as Kate closes the door behind me.

"Nothing. Bella just really needed to pee," Kate's muffled voice carries through the door.

Alice's presence in the apartment almost makes me lose my nerve again. Kate's gentle knock and a quiet "Hurry up," gives me the extra push I need.

The wait is excruciating. To make sure Alice doesn't think I'm having serious stomach problems, I sneak the pregnancy test into my bedroom and wait there. I sit, staring at the little plastic thing placed on my desk. Such a little thing, yet so powerful. With everything said and done, it holds my future in its lines.

If it's negative, I can move forward without much worry. Of course I will have to double check with a nurse or something, but I could be ninety percent certain that I'm not becoming a mom. Then I could (and would) tell Edward about my interaction with Carlisle on my own terms.

If it's positive... I guess I'd have to tell Edward as soon as possible. And Carlisle.

I'm pro-choice, but now that I might have to choose for myself, I don't know if I can.

My hand strokes my imaginary bump.

Would I be able to bring Carlisle's child into this world? What if Edward decides he can't be a father to someone else's baby? Would I be able to do it on my own? I have to be realistic; Edward is most likely going to leave me for this.

The thought of going on without Edward is too painful. Tears are already staining my face. I am painfully aware of how much I have fallen for him. I have never loved another person as much as I love him.

Doing it without him is not an option. I don't think I can raise a child on my own.

I imagine giving the child up for an adoption, but something tells me that would ruin me. I love kids as it is. I can't possibly carry a child in my womb for nine months, grow to love it, and then hand it off to strangers.

Kate interrupts my thoughts, peeking in through the door.

"So, what's the result?"

I blink. It takes a moment to get back to reality. My eyes seek out the stick.

"I don't know. I can't look."

Kate walks over to the desk and grabs it without looking. She settles next to me and holds my hand.

"Quick and painless, okay?" she asks.

I don't believe it's going to be painless, but I answer, "Okay," anyway.

She hands over the stick, and I look down.

As I look at the offending object in my hand, I realize that the carefully separated lines have crossed and my relatively simple life is so far from it, I can't even see it. Not only do I have to confront both Edward and Carlisle with the news, but chances are I'll ruin one of the best things that have ever happened to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raise your hand if you knew this was coming...


	21. The Way It Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on SiK: Bella discovers she's pregnant. By Carlisle, most likely. That's pretty much the only thing that happened.

_**About two weeks later** _

Kate has been my rock in the last two weeks. As soon as my tears subsided the day I peed on the stick, she made me call the gynecologist for an appointment. She even offered to escort me into the exam room during the check-up, but I declined her gracious offer. As much as I have appreciated her support and non-judgmental attitude, I realized as we sat in the waiting room that I must take care of my own responsibilities.

The appointment with the gyno only confirmed the original pregnancy test—or the original two pregnancy tests. I freaked out shortly after looking at the first one and peed on the other stick in the box, just to be sure.

I am pregnant, and as much as I've wanted to be brave and face this head on, I've been living in the swirl of thoughts going in circles in my head. There is no space for any actions in there. There are only possible outcomes, all less desirable than the first, and no drive to see what will happen.

The phone buzzes for the millionth time, and once again, I press silence. I don't even glance at the screen. I know who it is.

Not even five minutes later, there is a loud knock on the front door. Someone yells through it, but I can't discern whose voice it is, as the door to my room is closed as well. The knock continues, and eventually I give up. I don't care that I'm only wearing pajama bottoms and a tank-top, or that my hair looks like a brown haystack.

"Bella!" the voice shouts impatiently as he knocks on the door. "Come on, Bella. I know you're in there. Why are you avoiding me?"

My stomach drops, and I stop in my tracks.

I don't want to face Edward.

Why can't life allow me to live in my tiny little bubble when I want to? Why do I have to face the consequences of my actions? Why did I have to be this stupid in the first place?

I've cried every day since I found out. My options are perfectly clear to me, but how can I make a life-altering choice like that without wondering what could have been? No matter what I do, I'll always wonder.

"Please, Bella," he pleads softly.

I take a deep breath and brace myself. Slowly, I open the door. The look on Edward's face is heartbreaking, and his hair is a beautiful mess.

He takes one step toward me but then stops himself. It's almost as if he's afraid to touch me—like he doesn't know how to act around me.

I don't know how to act around him either.

"What's going on? Why haven't you been answering my calls and texts?"

Guilt jabs me in the gut. I would have thought I'd learned already that putting things off and ignoring issues will make them a lot worse. However, being true to myself, I chose to ignore Edward while I tried to sort things out in my head.

Things are just as badly sorted now as they were two weeks ago.

"I just... Finals and stuff, you know? I've been busy." I look down at the floor to avoid his pleading gaze.

"We're all busy with finals. That doesn't stop us from talking to each other! I think I know you well enough to know that there's something going on in that head of yours." He reaches out and gently takes my hand. "Was it something I did?"

Tears threaten to break out, but I try to remain strong. I know I have to tell him, and I have to tell him now.

I pull him farther into the apartment and close the door. No one is home at the moment, so I guide us to the couch in the living room. I don't even dare look straight at him, but he clutches onto my hand like he's grasping his last lifeline.

When we're settled on the sofa, I finally allow myself to look at Edward.

"Baby, why are you crying?" he says softly, a hand reaching up to brush the tears away from my cheek.

Emotions constrict my throat, and I half sob as I try to speak. "I-I have b-big news, and I don't know how to t-tell you."

Edward tries to put his arm around me and hug me to his side, but I push him away. "No, I need to see you when I tell you," I say with conviction. The uncertainty of his expression would kill me if I'd seek refuge in his arms. Instead I sit up and sit cross-legged, Indian style, facing Edward.

"Okay..." He looks confused, but he still takes my hands in his. I'm grateful for the contact.

I look at our joined hands for a long moment as I try to muster up the courage to speak. I'm probably the biggest coward on this planet. Thankfully, Edward might just be the most patient person I've ever known.

The gentle rub of his thumbs across the back of my hands is comforting. Eventually I decide that quickly ripping off the band-aid is the best approach.

"I'm pregnant."

The words sit heavy in the air as I stare into Edward's eyes, awaiting his reaction. At first he's frozen in place, but then his eyes wander south to my stomach.

"H-How?"

 _When a man and a woman lie together..._  Thankfully my filter still works, and I stop myself from attempting to be funny. "Because I was stupid and didn't use protection."

My heart pounds as I wait for his questions.

"Is it... I mean..." He shakes his head. "It's only been like a month; how can you know?"

It's hard to breathe. This is the truly hard part.

"I'm actually eleven weeks along," I whisper.

Edward looks at me while he's probably calculating what that means. His brows furrow, and then his hands start to tremble, before he eventually lets go of my hands.

All of a sudden, I don't feel as safe.

"So around Christmas?" he asks tentatively.

"Yes."

He nods slightly and his expression becomes more steeled.

"And... whose is it?" His voice is a little louder than before.

"Does it matter?"

"I think it does."

"It's just this guy..."

"Do you even know who it is?"

The comment stings. It's so shocking that I forget that I'm the one who's hurting him.

"Of course I know!" I yell as I stand up. "I'm not the one with a million girlfriends on my arm and with even more girls fighting over him!"

Edward stands up as well. "And how would I know? You don't exactly tell me that much about your private life! It was a little hard to believe that you weren't with anyone after Emmett." He laughs harshly. "Turns out I was right! And yet, even when I spoke about my past, you remained silent about yours!"

"It was complicated!" I cry. "How was I supposed to explain something I didn't even understand? And it's not like I wanted to build a future with him!"

"Who was it?" he asks menacingly.

The grave look on his face scares me, and I don't want to answer. Somehow I think it would be easier if Edward didn't know who Carlisle was, but they do know each other. Carlisle is a close friend of Matthew Masen's, and Edward has even spent time studying under Carlisle, unofficially.

Edward has moved a couple of steps away from me, but his steeled face looks wounded. "Please, Bella. Answer me."

Finally, I whisper, "Carlisle Cullen."

His face falls, and it looks like the wind has been knocked out of him. Two seconds later, he turns around and walks out of the living room.

Panicking, I chase after him. The front door has barely closed after him when I reach it and tear it open.

"Wait!" I shout. I don't even put on shoes when I rush out after him. I only just manage to close the door behind me. For a second, I register that I have nothing on me—no keys, no phone, no money, no nothing. It doesn't deter me, though. I have to catch Edward and explain properly. I fear that if I can't do it now, I'll never see him again.

"Edward!" I call again and chase him out to the cold street.

He walks quickly to his car parked along the street. I dash to the passenger door and slide in before he can turn on the car.

"Leave," he says through his teeth.

"No. I'm not leaving until you've heard everything."

Edward turns on the engine. "Please leave!"

"Seriously, I'm not going until I get to explain!"

"Fine." He revs the engine and pulls out of the parking space.

At first I just sit in my seat, looking at Edward and watching his emotions bubble underneath a mask he has composed.

"If you want to talk, then talk," he spits out. "And buckle your seatbelt, for God's sake!"

"I don't think talking about it while you're driving is the best idea," I say as I fasten the belt.

His driving is reckless as he keeps accelerating and zooming in and out of streets. I don't think he even knows where he's going.

"Bella, just say what you want to say," he says, exasperated.

"Fine." I sit back in my seat but still watch him. "You remember how crazy and weird I was last year before Christmas, right?" I want to laugh to lighten the mood, but something tells me it's not going to work.

"Yes."

It hurts that he accepts my craziness as a fact, even though I used this word myself.

"I was a mess," I continue. "Kate can confirm, and probably Alice as well. I don't even know what was up with me. For some reason, I decided it would be a good idea to hit on my doctor the night I got my leg brace."

"From what I heard, you were pretty drunk that night," Edward says coldly.

"I was, but I knew what I was doing. Besides, Carlisle most definitely wasn't drunk, so I was left with the embarrassment." I cringe as I remember how awfully I'd felt back then.

Edward's jaw hardens when I mention Carlisle's name.

"Anyway... Last Christmas, when everyone left town, I ended up in the ER again. I called Carlisle because I had stomach pains, and he met me at the hospital. I was fine, but we started talking and decided to have a belated Christmas together. After all these years, we've kind of become friends... Then during dinner, we were both lonely, and one thing led to another... We had an agreement, if you know what I mean.

"Wait, isn't that some sort of felony? A doctor having an affair with a patient?"

"He stopped being my doctor after I attacked him before Thanksgiving."

His hands tighten on the steering wheel and his jaw is still tense.

"I was on the pill, but it was a new pill, and I was on antibiotics... I was just stupid."

Edward snorts. "I'll say."

"Oh, come on!" I glare at him. "It's not like you're so smart."

He tenses up again, and his eyes narrow as he surveys the street.

"Edward, please! You can't be mad at me for this! It happened before you and I started dating!"

"Oh, so we didn't go on a date before Christmas? Was that something I imagined?"

"Don't be ridiculous; of course it happened! But nothing happened between us until after New Year's! I didn't think you liked me!"

"Of course I liked you! How could you think otherwise? Why do you think I kept visiting you guys even though I had a mountain of school work to get through and finals to study for? And even when you were a bitch and wouldn't give me a second glance."

The hurt in his voice hits me to the core, and I can't help it; I start crying again. "I told you I was a mess," I say between sobs.

Edward looks like he's fighting himself, but after some pause, he asks calmly, "And what are you going to do about the baby?"

"I don't know," I answer quietly as I wipe under my eyes. "It kind of depends on you..." I know it's horrible of me to say that, but I don't know what I'll do until I know where he stands.

"Damn it, Bella! How am I supposed to decide what you do with Carlisle's baby?"

"No, I didn't mean it like that! I meant that—" My voice breaks, but I continue meekly, "I don't think I can do it without you, no matter what I do."

"And what kind of position does that put me in? If I don't agree to raise someone else's baby with you, it will be on my hands if you give it away? If you abort it? Bella, you can't put that on me! I can't be the reason why you do whatever you decide to do! Besides, doesn't the  _father_  get a say?" he almost growls, like the word tastes badly.

I know he's right. I know I shouldn't have put him on the spot like that. It's up to me, and Carlisle should get a say in the matter.

"I don't want a baby right now," I almost whisper. "I'm afraid of doing it alone, and I'm scared that you'll leave me. I don't want to lose you. I... I love you, Edward."

His mouth is set in a thin line as he watches straight ahead, but he is definitely fighting something. His composed expression is falling, and his lips twitch under the strain.

I wait for a reaction from him. Anything. If he could just acknowledge that I'd just aired out my biggest vulnerability. I know I'm selfish, but I need him to give me something.

That's when I notice the glistening on his cheek. His eyes blink more rapidly than before, and a couple of tears fall down his cheeks. I reach out to wipe them, wishing I could reach over and hug him.

"Don't!" Edward yells, his voice shaky, as he pushes my hand out of the way. He starts wiping his cheeks himself. "I can't deal with you right now." The emotion in his voice is raw and hurting. His fingers keep swiping underneath his eyes, and he pinches the bridge of his nose, like he's trying to clench his tear-ducts closed.

I need to be closer to him, so I reach down to unbuckle my seatbelt.

The car jolts.

"Bella!" Edward shouts, but it's drowned in the searing pain taking over my body.

Before I can process what's happening, everything goes black.


	22. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on SiK: Bella finally got around to telling Edward, who was none too happy to find out she slept with someone else (though the status of their relationship at that time was fuzzy). Edward stormed out of the apartment, and Bella followed him to the car and refused to leave before she could explain. So she ended up riding in his car as he zoomed around the streets of Seattle. And then everything went black...
> 
> Warning: very sensitive material covered in this chapter. I hope I did it justice, and believe me, it was not easy to write. However, it had to be done. This is what I've intended this entire time. I'm sorry if you don't like it. Proceed with care.

Grating sounds invade the white haven, and I'm very aware of the pounding in my head. Just the smallest move makes my whole body ache. No, I don't even have to move for it to ache. I groan, but my throat is dry, so barely any sound escapes.

There is a shuffle close to me, and I hear a clicking sound by my head. Someone picks up my hand and holds it, softly stroking the back of it.

Before I can open my eyes and see who it is, I'm dragged back down into the white oblivion.

* * *

 

It's brighter when I come around again. I flinch as the sunrays hit my face. My hand reaches up to rub my eyes, and I'm painfully made aware of the tube attached to the back of it. My senses are sluggish, but I vaguely register movements of someone close to me.

I struggle to open my eyes. My body feels like it has been pulled apart and hastily put back together.

As I try to sit up and get more comfortable, I wince at the movements.

"Shh, here, let me help," Kate's voice comes from beside me.

I finally manage to open my eyes and see her standing right next to my bed. Everything is so bright in here. The walls are faded yellow, and most of the appliances seem to be white with a bluish tinge to them. I've landed myself in a hospital enough times to know when I'm in one of their uncomfortable beds. And if I didn't already know by looking at all the machines surrounding me, the definite hospital smell would be a clear sign. Hospitals have always smelled so sterile… so deathly.

Looking around the room, I notice Alice standing a bit farther away, looking like she's afraid of something.

Kate helps me sit up and arranges the pillows for me.

"Thank you for coming," I say weakly.

Kate smiles and sits down on a chair next to my bed. Alice tentatively gets a chair from the next bed and drags it closer.

"What happened?" I ask.

"You were in a car accident," Kate answers carefully.

Right. I was in a car, explaining the details of my messed up life to Edward.

A cold grip takes hold of my insides as I remember about Edward. My eyes seek Alice's. "How's Edward?"

Alice and Kate glance at each other before Alice smiles tightly. "He's fine."

I look between the two of them. "Is that all I'm getting? 'He's fine'? Is he here? Is he hurt?" When I feel I'm getting close to a hysterical episode, I try to breathe deeply to calm myself. "Please, Alice. Tell me how he is."

Alice's eyes turn soft, and her smile more genuine, but sad. "The doctors told us that your body is under a lot of stress, so we're not supposed to tell you anything that will upset you. He really is okay, though."

"She's telling the truth," Kate mumbles when I look at her for confirmation.

Even though I feel better knowing he's okay, I'm still uneasy about his absence. "Okay" could mean so many things. It could mean that he's out of danger, or that he walked out of the accident completely unharmed. If the former, it could mean that he's still injured and could go back into being in danger. If the latter, it could mean that he can't forgive me and has left me for good.

Either possibility scares me.

Kate grabs my hand suddenly. "Bella, breathe! You need to calm down!"

Confused, I look at her, and that's when I notice that I'm gasping for air, one hand clutched to my chest.

Kate gets a mask hanging from one of the steel medicine hangers and holds it in front of my nose and mouth. As I try to focus my breathing, Alice walks around to the other side and presses a button on one of the machines.

Soon after, the white warm haven envelopes me again.

* * *

 

The empty room looks cold when I open my eyes once more. The smell of the hospital is still overwhelming, but I feel better, physically and mentally. My thoughts are less hazy, my body is more numb than achy, and so are my emotions. Thankfully.

For a moment, I feel content lying alone in my bed. It gives me time to piece together the events that led me here.

I remember a fight with Edward. I remember telling him about Carlisle and the baby…

My hand softly traces my imaginary bump, but underneath the hospital gown I only feel a sore spot covered by gauze.

He was crying. I told him I loved him, and he started crying. He looked so hurt! I wanted to hug him… I reached down to unclasp my seatbelt, and the next thing I remember is crashing sounds and searing pain.

I feel like I should be more emotionally freaked out right now.

Before I can dig too deep into my internal numbness, I hear someone come in. I don't want to talk to anyone except Edward, and somehow I just know he isn't the one coming. Instead, I hear Kate sigh as she sits down next to me.

"Bella, are you awake?" she whispers.

"Not by choice," I mumble back. I open my eyes and prop myself up. "Kate, what happened? How long will I have to stay in the hospital?"

Kate looks at me, probably contemplating what to tell me.

Finally she says softly, "You were hit by another car. Edward ran a red light, and the car hit your side. Edward only lost consciousness for a minute, but when he woke up, he nearly lost it." Her voice rises as she continues. "When the paramedics came, they had to sedate him to get him away from you.

"He only had a few cuts and bruises, and the other driver got a mild concussion. You, on the other hand, had a few broken ribs, concussion and internal bleeding. They couldn't get to the bleeding without removing the baby, and—" She pauses. Gently holding my hand in hers, she continues, "Apparently you're lucky that you can still conceive. They told me it was a close call."

I just stare at her blankly.

"How do you know all this?" I ask, my voice straining. My cheeks are uncomfortably wet from the tears streaming down my face, and frankly, I have no idea what to do with this information.

"Jasper acted as your next of kin," Kate answers. "They couldn't get a hold of your mom, and Dr. Cullen reluctantly agreed since he's your cousin. It took a lot of begging on our part, but I think he maybe felt sorry for us..."

My hand travels back to my stomach as something from her earlier words registers in my brain. "You mean… I lost the baby?" I whisper.

Kate, pained, nods as she takes my hand.

My chest is heavy as I try to breathe through the pain. It feels so surreal. Obviously, I'm relieved that I got the worst of it—that no one died.  _Or_ _technically_ _no_ _one_. Shit. This is so messed up. I didn't even want a baby, not now, and not this way!

Two weeks. That's how long I knew I was pregnant. How can something I barely knew was there hurt so much when it's gone? And the pain is really strange. I don't know if I can even call it pain. It's just painful emptiness.

Before I know it, I break out in uncontrollable sobs, and poor Kate does her best to console me. She crawls into the bed and hugs me tightly. Her hand gently brushes my hair as she holds me together. For minutes, we lie together in the hospital bed, and when I start calming down, I notice that she has been shedding tears as well.

When quietness takes over again and I finally can't deal with the hole left in my heart, I desperately want some normalcy. For some reason, I decide that mindless chatter will do the deed.

"So, did I miss anything exciting on TV last night?" I ask as I brush the tears off my face.

Kate laughs quietly. "Well, the last episode of  _Gossip_ _Girl_  was kind of exciting," she starts, and then quickly adds, "Oh, you'll never believe what happened!"

"Wait,  _Gossip_ _Girl_?" I interject. "How long have I been out of it?"

"Oh… well, you were brought in on Tuesday night, and now it's Friday…" she trails off.

"Great," I mumble, my dark mood back in its rightful place. "Well, thank God for TiVo."

Kate chuckles.

I yawn, and Kate takes it as her cue to let me be.

"Are you going to be alright?" she asks as she stands up from my bed.

I smile weakly. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Whatever meds I'm on seem to do a wonderful job of numbing me down," I say wryly.

Honestly, I don't think it's a good idea to leave me alone with my thoughts, but I could never ask her to stay with me. She probably has enough on her plate without taking care of my shit as well. So I just gratefully smile at her when she bids me farewell, and I silently send a prayer to whomever is out there to take care of my girl.

I'm exhausted, so before long, I'm peacefully floating off to Netherfield, seeking comfort in Mr. Darcy's arms and consoling in the other hunks from the world of Austen. Yes, they are all there, and most of them look like Edward.

* * *

 

When I come around again, I feel almost okay. My body doesn't ache as much, even though I'm sure my meds have been reduced. I'm just more aware of my being now. Like, I can feel the itch in the stitches on my stomach. The bruise on my heart, however, aches more than ever.

The white noise of the hospital only increases the lonely mood surrounding me. As I lie in bed and try to wade through the swirling thoughts of the last few days, it seems to press on me from all sides. The guilt and pain are overpowering, and I wish I was still heavily medicated.

Just when I'm about to scream in frustration and anguish, Carlisle walks in through the door, complete in doctor's coat and perusing a chart.

"Carlisle," I say, relieved. Hopefully he can give me some peace of mind.

He stops dead in his tracks.

"Oh. Bella. I didn't realize you were up. How are you feeling?"

Judging by his posture, he looks slightly uncomfortable. He's clearly keeping some distance between us, and the smile on his face is not effortless.

"Are you my doctor?" I ask, ignoring his question.

His smile turns into a grimace. "Ah, um, no. When you're condition became apparent, I removed myself from your case."

Well, that was a vague answer.

"So what are you doing here?" I look down at the clipboard now closed in his hands.

He finally steps closer, coming all the way up to my bed and sitting down in the chair next to it.

"I came to check up on your well-being. Are you comfortable? Experiencing any pain?"

I lie back in the bed. "I'm fine. I'm not so much in pain anymore, so I'm good," I answer flatly. "Can you tell me how Edward's doing? I haven't been able to get any proper answers from anyone."

"Edward is doing well, physically," Carlisle answers calmly.

I prop up on my bed, alerted. Carlisle might actually know something. "And emotionally?" I ask quickly. I know it's a risk and I might not like the answer, but I need to know. I hate being so in the dark about everything.

"He'll be okay…" Carlisle rests his elbows on his knees. "Bella, this is quite a shock for everyone—especially him."

"I know," I mumble. "I just miss him. I want to see that he's okay."

"He'll come around. He's been worried sick about you the whole time; he's been planted by your side since he was allowed to get up. Don't worry, honey."

I sigh and fall back onto my pillows.

"So, um…" I start hesitantly, peeking at him. "You probably know everything about my case, huh?"

Carlisle nods. I notice a brief flash of emotion cross his face, but he's quick to hide it.

"And it was mine?" he asks quietly.

"Yes…" I whisper. "I really wish you didn't have to find out like this."

"How long have you known?"

"About two weeks. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. It took me long enough to man up and tell Edward."

A glimpse at Carlisle tells me he's looking at me, and his smile is back to looking like he's struggling to keep it up.

"I didn't want it," I say bitterly. "I mean, I didn't want to be pregnant, but then I was, and I was kind of coming around to the idea, but then I had a reality check, and it looked like Edward wasn't ready to do this with me, so I didn't want it again." I let out a dark chuckle. "I guess that'll teach me to be careful for what I wish for." I sob in the involuntary tears.

"Oh, Bella." He reaches out and squeezes my hand. "This accident was a horrible thing…"

I nod and sniffle, feeling exhausted.

"I just… I want to see Edward. I want to talk to him. I miss him…"

Carlisle squeezes my hand again before standing up and letting go.

"I'll go get him for you."

"No, it's alright. He clearly doesn't want to see me when I'm awake, and I understand." I sigh. "I wouldn't want to face me either," I mumble.

Carlisle strokes my hair, and I look into his sad eyes.

"Bella, you know Edward is processing everything. Give him some time."

I nod and close my eyes, willing the world away. I feel Carlisle kiss the top of my head, and then I hear him walk out of the room.

* * *

 

I slowly regain consciousness sometime later. All the major lights have been shut off and only the electrical equipment gives off a faint bluish glow.

It's the first time I wake up without feeling any pain at all. I lie there, staring at the ceiling, when suddenly I become aware of a hand clutching mine. I look down, and my heart constricts when I recognize the bronze mane.

Edward is resting his head on his outstretched arm, his hand gently placed above mine. I watch his sleeping form lying so close to me and ache to hold him in my arms.

After a while, I untangle my hand from his and start running it through his soft hair. He slowly starts to stir while I massage his scalp, and he turns into my touch.

Suddenly, his head springs up, and he sits back in his chair, staring at me with such pained eyes.

My eyes start to water at the sight of him. I have hurt him so, so much, and I can't bear the guilt any longer. I close my eyes and start sobbing silently.

After a few horrible minutes where I fear he might have left the room, I feel someone crawling into bed with me, and Edward's smell surrounds me. I open my eyes and look into his, relieved to see that his shock has subsided. I don't quite know how to read his emotions, but it looks like sadness is the dominant one. I only hope that it's not caused by me. Well, obviously it is because of me, but hopefully he's on his way to forgiving me. Selfish, I know.

"I'm sorry I haven't been here with you," he whispers softly.

"It's okay. I understand." I lay my head against his chest, feeling so much more at ease now that he's with me. At least he doesn't hate me so much that he can't be in the same room as me.

His hand gently strokes my arm, a gesture that soothes my heart.

"I'm still not sure how to feel about the situation," he whispers into my hair. "It's too much…"

I shush him. "I'll be waiting for you when you figure it out."

Yes, it hurts that I don't have him for good. Not yet. But there is nothing I can do except to give him time to figure out his feelings. I have to trust that he will be forgiving and return to me at some point.


	23. The Act of Growing Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on SiK: Bella woke up in the hospital all bruised and broken, physically and mentally. She lost at least three days of consciousness and the baby. Carlisle found out about everything, but we don't really know how he feels about it. Edward is also on the fence, but at least he and Bella got to talk a little bit.

_**March, 2010** _

When I'm finally allowed to go home again after the accident, I hadn't seen Edward for three days. Every new day weighs heavier on me than the one before, but I'm resolved to give Edward space. After everything I've said and done, I owe it to him.

I've spent most of my time holed up in my bedroom, half-heartedly studying for my finals. Thankfully, I'm allowed to take two of my three exams later than my classmates, due to the week in the hospital. If it weren't for the fact that I'd be wasting so much money, I'd skip out of the exams altogether. School just seems so unimportant right now.

My hand softly strokes the healing wound on my stomach. It itches, and the constant tickling feeling is uncomfortable and a sore reminder of what happened. I've been home for a week already, and it still hurts. Physically, and mentally.

With a sigh, I turn back to my Norton collection of Shakespeare's work. He's my last and easiest subject. It shouldn't be much of a problem, despite all the distractions this quarter.

Someone knocks tentatively on my door.

"Yes?" I answer without looking up. Kate and Alice have been periodically checking in on me all week, and while sometimes annoying, the sentiment is very much appreciated.

However, it's not Alice or Kate at the door. It's Rosalie. "Can I come in?" she asks as her head peeks in.

I smile wearily. "Sure."

She takes a couple of steps into my room but stops in front of my bed. Her eyes are fixed on me, and I wait for her to speak. Finally, she does.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm okay," I answer as I take in her appearance. She looks almost out of place standing there in the middle of my bedroom. Not only because she is so clean and pretty, standing in my mess of a room, but also because she seems uncomfortable as she twiddles with a strand of her hair. Not blonde-twiddle, the kind that makes you look dumb or flirty, but nervous-twiddle.

After a pause she says, "I heard about the accident." It's as if she's trying to find something to talk about, even though most people would have gone for the weather if they wanted mindless chatter.

"All good things, I hope," I say dryly. If people are going to gossip about me, it better be a good story.

Rosalie grimaces at my dark joke. "The gossip is pretty gruesome, but I was there when Kate was filling Emmett in. I trust she didn't flourish it too much."

I nod, because I don't know how to respond. I expect Kate was truthful in her accounts of the accident.

My fingers fumble with my pencil, bumping it against the book in my lap. It fills the silence.

"Why don't you sit down?" I ask after another spout of silence and point toward my desk chair.

She does. The normally squeaky chair doesn't make a sound as she sits frozen in place. Of course not. It only screeches for ungraceful people, like me.

I want to ask her to get on with it, but I don't know her well enough to be that blunt with her.

Finally, she speaks.

"Have you talked to Edward since you got home?"

I shake my head. "No. I'm giving him space."

Rosalie cocks her eyebrow. "You were severely injured in a car accident  _he_  caused, and you're giving  _him_  space?"

"You know it's more complicated than that," I say coldly. She has no business judging either me or Edward.

"It seems pretty simple to me," she replies just as coldly.

"He has a right to be upset! He feels like I betrayed him!"

"And did you?"

The simple question stumps me. I want to argue back, but I have no answer. I can see how he might think I did, but I honestly feel like I ended the quasi-relationship with Carlisle the night Edward and I started dating for real. In my head, the lines are separated, even though I apparently carried a thread of life from one relationship to the other.

The thought of my lost baby stirs my emotions back to life, and I fight to keep my composure in front of Rosalie. I lose. My body starts to tremble, and I try to keep my tears at bay as I take deep breaths to calm myself.

Rosalie slides the chair closer to the bed, and to my surprise, she grabs my hand and clutches it tightly.

"Did you get a chance to explain your side?" she asks quietly.

I breathe through the tears before I answer. "I feel like I did, but I'm not sure… Everything from that night is kind of hazy… I can't remember the exact things I said…"

"Hey, you explained yourself, and if he can't see your side, he has no business in your life. Relationships are not one-way streets; you have to be able to understand where the other person is coming from as well. You need to stop waiting for him to come to his senses. You cannot wait for him forever, and the sooner you start putting yourself first, the better."

I stare at her as I take in her harsh words. "It's only been two weeks since he found out." I wipe underneath my eyes, suddenly feeling defeated.

"Exactly. It's been two weeks. And in those two weeks, you have had to recover from a horrible car accident and the loss of an unborn child. He thought his girlfriend may have cheated on him, and he got out of the car accident almost completely unscathed. He might be hurt by what you did, but he definitely shouldn't take you for granted. You need to take your own life into your hands and show him and everyone else that you don't need anyone to live your life."

I take a moment to think about her point. As much as I hate to admit it, she is right. I really don't want to keep wallowing in my own self-pity anymore. And honestly, I wonder if I'm feeling sorry for myself just as an excuse for not moving on. Yes, I love Edward, and I'm still mourning my lost baby, even though I didn't think I wanted it, but more than anything, I want to learn to love myself. At some point last winter, I lost all control of my life and my happiness, and I want it back.

There's just one problem.

"I don't know where to start."

Rosalie crawls into the bed and sits down beside me, still holding my hand. "Start by eating dinner with your friends. Then ace your last test. Then you can relax for the remaining days of spring break. It's all about taking it one step at a time."

Suddenly I remember something that fills me with dread. "Shit, I forgot to register for classes! Now I'll be stuck with all the boring ones."

"Maybe you can take a break from school this quarter. From what I've heard, you've been working your ass off for the last three years, so it would probably be good for you to take a break."

"But I'm due to graduate in June."

"Could you postpone it for a quarter? Or a year?"

I honestly start considering it. If it's possible, I would love to take a break and recuperate. I could even go back to Forks and help Sue start the bed and breakfast. My friends could visit me during their breaks, and I could visit them.

And I'd find out for sure if Edward really loves me or if he's ready to discard me.

* * *

 

_**Months later, middle of September, 2010** _

Immediately after my final, I made my way to Padelford to see the English undergraduate advisers. When I asked about the possibility of postponing my graduation and taking the final quarter next school year, the woman I talked to explained that my scholarship is good for four years or hundred and eighty credits, whichever comes first. So as long as I finish my remaining fifteen credits within the next year, I am good to go. Of course I have to pay a penalty for signing up for graduation in June but not going through with it, but it's only a small price to pay for the chance of getting my life back together.

The adviser was very understanding when I explained my case, and after reviewing my academic record, she told me this slight setback shouldn't reflect badly on it. So, after thinking about it for a couple of days, I filled out the paperwork given to me and handed it in at the administration office.

I arranged with Kate and Alice to sublet my bedroom, but they insisted that they would always have a place for me if I wanted to come back. I texted Edward the night before I left, letting him know that I was going and I didn't know when I'd be back. A part of me hoped he would come running after me, but I guess life isn't a movie.

Kate came with me out west for the weekend so that I didn't have to make the drive alone. I think she wanted to look out for me, in case I decided I'd be miserable in Forks.

It felt weird to unpack my clothes in my old wardrobe. It was both comforting and disappointing, if that makes sense. It was almost as if I'd taken a couple of steps back in my life, being back here, and while I'm back in the safety of my childhood home, it's still not the same. It's  _my_  house now. There is no curfew, no set dinner time – not that there ever was with my dad around – and yeah, no Dad. It's not sad, though. Just different.

Sue and I started working on the bed and breakfast idea as soon as I got settled. We worked our way through every room and made a list of possible decorations and what we needed to discard or store. I had of course cleared away a lot of the junk my dad had accumulated over the years, but there were still personal items scattered here and there that needed to be cleared. Leah and Seth helped us move and box up whatever we needed to clear away.

It turns out Leah has great organization skills, and she worked up a clear schedule of what needed to be done and when, which furniture needed to be moved where, and which rooms needed to be painted and in which color. Sue and I discussed while Leah documented and made up a plan. It was really great to have her help us with the project, and she made sure we were on time to open for the summer tourist season. She even made sure to get the word out and advertise, which was something Sue and I both had forgotten to even think about.

And for weeks, I didn't have time to think about anything but my little business project.

The wound on my belly started to heal, and eventually, all I was left with was a faded pink line beneath my belly button. For the first few days after Kate returned to Seattle, I cried myself to sleep, but in the end, I got tired of feeling sad. Instead I practiced calming myself down before going to bed. Every evening I would look up yoga exercises on YouTube and spend about an hour straining my body before relaxing so completely, I had to literally drag myself across the floor and heave myself into bed.

I'll admit that I often looked at my phone to check if Edward had called, and I always made sure that my phone was somewhere I could hear it. But when I began getting used to people calling at all hours to check for room availability, I started to forget who it was I was expecting to call when I checked my phone.

The second the first costumers walked into my home in June was a thrilling feeling. The sockeye salmon season had just started, and a man from Olympia brought his wife and twelve year old son with him to go fishing. The wife only spent half a day in the river, but while her son and husband spent hours and hours in the cold stream, Sue and I took turns at showing her around town. They were a lovely family, and I couldn't have asked for better first costumers.

After that, the summer season pretty much flew by. Thanks to Leah's brilliant business mind and her advertisements, we have been more or less fully booked this summer. Sue and I alternate our mornings to cook the breakfast, and I have come to love the quiet mornings in front of the stove, experimenting with my waffles and pancakes. There is something to be said of the feel of accomplishment when strangers seem to enjoy your cooking. Of course I try to not be around while they're eating, but I'm never so far away that I can't hear them compliment me to each other.

It has been a wonderful summer, and I love running the bed and breakfast. Sure, the business hasn't been smooth sailing the whole time, but the good days outnumber the bad ones by far, and not a day goes by when I don't smile at least once.

And even today, when my mind keeps going elsewhere, I still feel confident in my decision to leave Seattle for a while.

Sue, Leah and I have decided to see where business will take us, and we are going to continue to keep this place open at least until Christmas. Meanwhile, I'm taking one course this quarter, and it only requires me to come to class once every two weeks. The rest I can do from home. It's a pretty sweet deal, if you ask me.

But today, as I make the bed in the master bedroom and clean up after the last guests, I can't help but pause every now and then and think of what could have been.

I could have been getting ready for the new quarter right now.

I could have been preparing for a long week of parties before school starts.

I could have been getting ready to give birth.

My fingers inch their way across the fading scar on my stomach. The action has become almost like a nervous twitch, though usually when I catch myself stroking it, I immediately stop. I don't like nervous twitches.

But today it's okay. Today is the tentative due date of my lost child. I'm allowed to be reverent and think of the could-have-beens.

A small part of me thinks that maybe I could have done it. I could have carried the child full term and even raised it by myself. I have a home and friends who are more than willing to help. I could have raised it in the small community of Forks with the power of Sue and probably Mrs. McCarty behind me. And I'm sure my friends in Seattle would have stood by me and helped me if I'd chosen to raise the baby in the city.

Even though my child is gone, I am confident now that I could have handled it. My life does not depend on the decisions of anyone else but my own.

Despite feeling sad over the lost life and lost opportunities, I still smile and try to enjoy the day as I go about my business. There's a couple coming in later today, and I'd rather the place be clean when they arrive. So I make the bed, vacuum the carpets, polish the mirrors, and clean the bathroom. The dirty laundry comes with me downstairs to be washed, and I get started on getting everything ready for tomorrow's breakfast. It's time for banana and blackberry muffins and chocolate chip pancakes.

When the dough for both is ready, I cover them with plastic wrapping and put them in the fridge.

As if prompted by the complete job, the doorbell rings.

I look up at the kitchen clock and see it's only three-thirty. The Lucases are not due to arrive for another three hours, so I have no idea who it could be.

Trying to maintain some clean image as the host, I wash my hands, take of the apron, and try to brush over my clothes real quick, in case I have flour somewhere. A quick look in the mirror assures me that I don't look like a complete mess in my dark blue jeans and navy shirt. I actually look rather accomplished and put-together.

The doorbell rings again. Smiling at my new-found confidence, I grab the door handle and open the door.

The smile freezes on my face as I take in the familiar sight. My heart starts racing, and for a second, I want to close the door again and pretend he's not here, but I decide against it. A first indication that maybe I actually have grown up.

"Hi," Edward says, and it sounds like Ross after he broke up with Carol. It sounds miserable. He looks miserable.

I don't say anything. It's like my vocal cords have shriveled up; I don't think I could produce any sound even if I tried.

"I…" He pauses, breathing deeply, as if trying to muster up courage for something. "I don't know where to start…"


	24. The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on SiK: After waiting around for a while and talking to Rose, Bella decides to move on and work on herself. She takes the last quarter off and moves back to Forks to start the bed and breakfast. Everything is going great, and she is growing as a person, until finally, one day, Edward shows up on her doorstep.
> 
> This is the second of two chapters told in Edward's point of view.

I see her waver in the doorway, and I know I only have a brief window of opportunity to catch her attention.

"I didn't give up on you—on us. It's all a big mess, and you may never forgive me, but I didn't give up on us."

Bella stands silently in her place, but her tight grip on the door has loosened. Just maybe she's willing to listen.

"I love you, Bella."

Her eyes shift as she looks at me. Her shoulders square off, and she stands taller. She firmly holds the door and the doorway close to her body, clearly barring my entrance. A little spark in her eyes grows into a burning flame as she speaks, her voice carrying the power of her conviction.

"No," she says. "You don't get to just show up here after months of not even trying to contact me and tell me that you love me. I know that I hurt you when I told you about the pregnancy, but from where I'm standing, your silence hurts more!"

"I know," I answer meekly. Looking down, I sigh, trying to not become too overcome by emotions. I need for her to understand where I'm coming from, and being unable to speak because of a huge lump in my throat is not going to help.

A couple of raindrops land on the porch in front of me, and a few land in my hair. A chill runs through me as a breeze rustles the trees around us. My hands seek the warmth of my pockets, but it's futile. The September wind is too much of a contrast to the tepid stillness of her doorstep.

I look back up, clutching onto a connection with her. "Please, just let me explain."

Bella's cold face doesn't show a hint of compassion. It's all hurt—and all because of me.

"Okay," she finally says, but she doesn't move from the doorway. "Explain."

When I step closer, she doesn't move.

"You're not going to let me in?" For some reason it comes off more pathetic than I meant it to be.

She arches her eyebrow. "No. You can say your piece out here or go home."

A couple of more raindrops land on my shoulders and chest, a few sliding down the back of my neck. I guess nature and Bella are ganging up on me.

"Okay then." I look around me as if the start of my story is hidden somewhere in the bushes. I honestly don't know where to start. Do I start with my summer in Chicago? With Victoria? Or the night of the accident? My hand starts rubbing the back of my neck as I search for the words. Eventually I look back at Bella and find myself in her hard, brown eyes.

"Okay," I start again. "When you told me you were pregnant, it was a total left-fielder. Just the idea of a little person in our lives was too much for me. You already know that being pre-med doesn't allow for much social life, and med-school is going to be so much worse. I honestly saw the rest of my non-academic life turn to dust when you said you were pregnant. But then you said it wasn't mine, and I lost it. I mean, I'm sure you already knew I wouldn't take the news well, but it just… Knowing that someone else had something so intimate with you…"

I pause to calm myself with deep breaths. I have to turn away from Bella to hide my unease. The emotions from that night bubble under the surface, but this time I know it's irrational—that my jealousy and anger don't have a leg to stand on.

After a couple of breaths, I look back into her eyes, my anchor, and continue, calmer. "Basically, I couldn't handle it. None of it. You were mine, and I didn't want to share you. Not with a baby, and definitely not with some other guy."

Bella's lips twitch and her chin quivers, but her eyes are still steeled. She remains motionless. The rain has been steadily growing stronger, and while she's safe and dry in the doorway, my t-shirt is getting wetter by the minute.

"After the accident, I was so mad at myself that I could barely look at you, but I still couldn't stay away from you. It was because of me you were in that hospital bed, and…" I stop myself from explaining how hurt I still was. I'm trying to get her to understand and forgive me, not to persuade her to feel sorry for me.

"Carlisle spent a lot of time by your side," I say, and I can't help the gritting of my teeth just thinking about it. "I tried to stay clear of him, but it was hard. Seattle is actually not that big of a city, you know. I only ever really spent time with Alice and Jasper, and whenever I tried to ask Allie about your case, she always told me it wasn't hers to tell, so I was pretty much in the dark. Eventually I just gave into the darkness. I missed you every day, but I just hated too much that you were pregnant by Carlisle.

"At first I threw myself into studying; I barely even left the lab for much other than sleep. Allie kept trying to talk to me and text me, but I pretty much ignored everyone. I signed up to be a research assistant to a fairly well-known doctor in Chicago for the summer, because I wanted to be far away and too busy to even think about you. To be honest, at that point, I don't think I even knew why I wanted to be away from you. I kept imagining your belly getting bigger and you and Carlisle getting ready for the baby, and… I couldn't think about that. It hurt too much."

When I mention her belly, Bella's chin quivers again, and her hand starts tugging on her shirt. I can only imagine how much it hurts for her to hear me mention the pregnancy again and again.

Actually, I can't even begin to imagine.

"One night in Chicago, the other med-students working at the hospital convinced me to go to a bar with them. That was probably sometime late July. I didn't really know them, and they pretty much turned that into a game. The evening was nothing but endless pitchers of beers and questions about my life. The more I drank, the more I spoke, and the more they enjoyed making fun of me. I don't really remember much of the night, but I vaguely remember telling them more than they needed to know about my dating history, especially about you. There was a girl there, Victoria, who pretty much saved my dignity that night."

Bella frowns, and I quickly realize that she might get the wrong idea.

"Nothing happened between me and Victoria, I swear. I didn't even try anything, and neither did she," I say. "Victoria actually finally helped me realize how stupid I'd been. She spent the whole night sobering me up and listening to me ramble on and on about how life wasn't fair and how much I missed you. And by asking one simple question, she made me doubt every single decision I'd made since you told me about the baby."

I know I've caught Bella's attention now. Her face has relaxed, her eyes are calmer, and her whole figure leans more into the door. She's wants to hear my conclusion.

"She asked, 'And after everything, after all the mistakes the two of you have made, do you love her?'"

I step closer to Bella. Not so much to get out of the rain, but because I feel like she's drawing me in. I need to be closer.

"And even though I didn't answer right away, I knew with all my heart that I still loved you. I love you."

Bella's lips have the hint of a smile before she hides it again. "And that was when? July?" she asks.

I smile at her stubbornness. And maybe I'm trying to get her to smile again. "Fair question." Instead of directly answering, I say, "Okay, when I realized that my case against being with you was feeble and crappy, I wanted nothing more than to get in touch with you. But I couldn't just call you up and say, 'hey, I'm stupid, can I see you again,' now could I? I had no idea where you were or if you'd moved on, and as far as I knew, you were still pregnant with another man's child. So I called Alice. She told me you were in Forks and doing fine and not dating anyone, but there was something she wasn't telling me. After a lot of persuading and pleading on my part, she finally told me that…" I look down at her abdomen and then back into her eyes. It's hard to say it, but I know that in our communication, it's important that we're both clear. So I must be clear. Quietly, I continue, "She told me that you'd lost the baby in the accident."

Again, Bella starts pulling on her shirt. It's obvious that she is still dealing with the loss, and once again I want to kick myself for not being there for her when she needed me.

I reach out my hand and grab hers, softly rubbing my thumb across the back. "I'm so sorry, Bella." Amazingly, she doesn't shy away from my touch. Instead she starts biting on her lip, which tells me she's holding back. Whether it's from crying or yelling at me, I don't know, but I don't dare move away from her.

"When I finally knew the whole story, I knew I couldn't just call you up. Suddenly, it wasn't about me forgiving you for not-even-cheating, but about you forgiving me. For everything. As much as I wanted to call you, to hear your voice, to know how you were doing, I knew it wouldn't be enough. You deserved more. So I had to wait. I was stuck in Chicago, but believe me, I've been counting down the hours until I could finally see you again, and explain to you why I didn't call. I don't expect you to forgive me, but I owed you the whole story."

I feel winded, exhausted, lighter and invigorated, all at the same time. To finally have everything off my chest, after months of staying away and waiting for this moment, is liberating. Yet now comes probably the hardest part: the limbo.

I watch Bella's eyes as they look into mine, still taking everything in. Her face is blank, her breath steady, but her hand is gripping onto mine like it's her last lifeline, and I dare to hope. While waiting for her response, I don't even care that the back of my t-shirt is getting soaked in the autumn rain. Even if I only get a cold out of this, it is still worth it. Bella needs to know how I feel, and how I've felt all this time.

After what feels like hours of looking into her eyes, she turns around and tugs at my hand. "Come on in." She sounds tired, but aside from that, her tone doesn't give me any indication of what she feels.

We go into the living room, and as I look around I notice the little changes from when I last was here. Her parents' wedding picture is gone from above the mantelpiece, and so is her father's prized thirty-pound Chinook salmon. A lot of her personal stuff has been taken down, and even her father's old recliner has been replaced with something probably from IKEA.

Bella leads me to the living room couch and indicates for me to sit. I expect her to sit down as well, but instead she lets go of my hand and walks towards the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?" she asks as she pauses in the doorway.

"Um, maybe water?" I'm slightly unnerved by her behavior, but I guess maybe she needs a moment to breathe and think. Fully knowing I need to give her some space, I sit back and wait.

The old grandfather clock in the corner ticks on as the seconds pass. Each tick gets a little bit louder than the one before it, and the more it beats, the sweatier my palms get. I rub them up and down my jeans to get rid of the dampness, but also because the sitting and waiting and doing nothing is killing me.

I know that she's not just getting drinks. I know that she is taking in everything I said and processing it. It's churning away in her head, probably making her think up a billion and one "what ifs."

Despite everything, I know my Bella. I know how major decisions freak her out to the point where she goes into denial and avoids the situation all together.

The worst thing is that I need to wait for her to make up her mind. I can't push her, or I might risk pushing her away from me. The only thing I can do is show her that I'm here for her.

I look up at the grandfather clock to check how long she's been in the kitchen, but I don't know when she left. It could be a couple of minutes, or it could be twenty. I sit still for a few more minutes, until I can't stand the not knowing any longer.

I have to be there for her.


	25. The New Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on Simplicity is Key: Edward explains his story. No one had told him about Bella losing the baby, so he decided to stay away and forget her. Except he couldn't. Then one day, Alice told him the whole story, and everything became clear for him. He needed Bella. So he waited for the perfect time to talk to her, which was that one day in September 2010. Yeah, a bit cowardly to wait so long, but hey, better late than never, right? Let's hope so...

Why did he have to do this now? Why did he have to come here and be all sweet and reasonable and yet so frustrating and… Ugh! Here I am, after months of trying to accept the fact that the man I loved walked away from me, and I swear, every day I've gotten better at it. So why does he have to come back into my life and ask for forgiveness now?

And why is it like we're going back and forth with this forgiveness thing? One moment he's supposed to forgive me and the next it's my turn. Quid pro quo? I have no idea.

Even though I know Edward will be expecting me back into the living room in just a few short moments, I sit down by the dinner table and try to collect my thoughts. Before I know it, my elbows are resting on the table and my head is in my hands, rolling between them.

Yes, I _am_  mad at him. The ball has been in his court all this time, and he never reached out to me. With his absence, he made me think we were over—he made me have to get over him. Or at least try.

He also made me grow up—or the situation did.

Because of him and needing to be able to live without him, I now run a fairly successful business, at least for a beginner. I also know that I can take care of myself. I don't need other people—especially guys—for me to be me.

So yes, I guess I'm a little grateful for Edward and our separation.

But I'm still mad at him.

It was unfair of him to be irrational about my affair with Carlisle. It was unfair of him to blame me for a mistake I was already regretting. It was unfair of him to make me out to be the bad guy, and then leave me when I needed him.

But in the end, after everything, I still love him.

I struggle to keep my breathing steady as I think back to his story, but I don't want Edward to hear me from the living room.

So he wanted to forget me, too. So he wanted to move on and not see me. So he was hurt.

So he realized that he didn't want to forget me at all.

So he still loves me…

But how can I trust that we can be together after all this? Will he look at my scar with disgust and be forever reminded that once I carried someone else's child? If he continues his education in Seattle, will he continue to avoid Carlisle? Can we ever be completely comfortable around each other? Will we have to move away from Seattle to get away from the memories?

Whoa, maybe it's a little early to start thinking of moving away together…

A sudden creak from a floorboard alerts me to Edward's presence.

"Um… Are you okay?" he asks quietly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just have a lot to think about."

He slowly walks over to me, and then I feel his hand on my back, gently rubbing in circles. Once again I succumb to his touch. It's too comforting to resist.

"Are you sure?" he presses.

I store my head back in my hands. My back arches into his palm as he continues to rub. "Yeah, I just need some time."

His nimble fingers start kneading my shoulders, which I've always found strangely wonderful. When most people touch my shoulders, I jump away screaming because it tickles. When Edward touches them, I melt.

"Take your time," he says. "I'll wait for however long you need me to."

It's weird, but suddenly I feel like there's no need for forgiveness. I don't need for him to forgive me, or for me to forgive him. We both made mistakes, and we both came clean. We've both been miserable since the day of the accident. By the sound of it, he's been even more miserable than I have.

Edward stops rubbing my shoulders after a few moments. Sitting down next to me, he takes my hand and starts playing with my fingers. When I look at him to see if he's trying to get my attention, he's not even looking at me. He's just looking at my fingers softly touching his palm. He doesn't take a breath to start speaking, and he's not trying to distract me. Or it doesn't seem like he is.

He's waiting for me. He is giving me all the space I need to figure out the jumbled mess in my head. He is simply trying to provide some kind of comfort while I do so.

And then it occurs to me: if we don't try to make it work this time, I will wonder for the rest of my life if letting him go was a mistake. I mean, I'm still second guessing so many things I did last winter. I should have acted less like a needy slut, and maybe I should have paid more attention to Edward from the beginning. I shouldn't have slept with my doctor. I should have used protection. I should have paid attention to my period. I should have been less of a wimp. I should have, I should have, I should have…

There is no point in trying to fix the past—to fix something already set in stone.

I watch his face, and a hint of worry is edged along his brow. His auburn hair is somewhat less vibrant than it used to be, and it lies practically flat against his head. I reach out my free hand and run it through his hair, lifting it up and fluffing it. The way I like it.

He raises his head and looks at me.

"Okay," I say.

He takes a deep breath and squeezes my hand. "Okay? What does that mean?"

I squeeze his hand back. "It means... I still love you. I want to try again."

He scoots his chair closer, clasping both of my hands now. There's a hint of a hopeful smile. "Really?"

I nod, unable to speak. I just smile weakly in return. It's all I'm able to offer.

Edward lifts one hand up to my face, gently cupping my cheek. His face inches closer, until I can feel his breath on my skin. My own breath becomes deeper in anticipation. My lips tingle in want to meet his, but I still sit frozen. I'm scared of jumping in, but I need to know if Edward and I still have something, and if it's something we can save and build up again.

As soon as I move my head an inch closer to his, he abandons his timid approach and dives in for a kiss. At first it came as a bit of a shock, but it's a pleasant one. A familiar tingle burns on my lips as I clasp him closer to me. His hands grab my waist and pull me closer, and I almost fall off my chair. My fingers travel up his neck and into his soft hair, breathing in our mingled scents.

Eventually we pull away; our sitting position was making it hard for us to get closer. Our hands find each other, and we sit there for a long while, just touching each other and getting reacquainted.

It is a new beginning.


	26. The Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time on Simplicity is Key: Nope, not telling you. It's a short chapter, I'm sure you have time to read it :)
> 
> To my readers, old and new: Thank you for this incredible journey. This story, while far from perfect, has taught me a lot. It has helped me realize what I want to do with my life (and no, it's not writing especially, though I love it), and it played a large part in why I chose to go to Seattle in 2011, where I had a brilliant year. While I have most of the time felt embarrassed about writing for the Twilight fandom, I am still proud of what I have accomplished, both with this stories and others.
> 
> To my wonderful betas, KannnD and Detochkina, who have been with me pretty much since the beginning and always found time for me when I randomly sent them a chapter after months of having nothing: thank you for putting up with me and helping me reach the end.
> 
> And DK, you have been invaluable to me, both in this and in other projects. Not a day goes by when I don't think about you, even though we haven't spoken in days. I know you will always be there for me, and I hope you know I'm only a ping away.
> 
> Without further ado, here is Bella's simple ending.

**March 2015**

To say that the next few days, or even weeks, after we got back together were easy is a lie. It was hell.

Edward ended up staying the entire weekend, but in order to not disturb the guests, he stayed on a cot in the garage. Even though I think we both wanted to jump back into bed and all that right away, we weren't ready. I definitely wasn't ready.

He helped me clean the house and cook for the guests, and during downtime, we sat down and talked. We made a deal to not be afraid to ask the hard questions, so many of our conversations were difficult and emotional. I got to know everything about Victoria, the girl who made him see the light (and thankfully, that was all she was). He told me about every single moment they ever shared together, just to make sure I knew there was never anything between them.

I told him everything he wanted to know about Carlisle—the embarrassment after Halloween, the night we hooked up the first time (no details about the deed itself, though), and the guilt I felt when I found myself falling for Edward while still having the benefits deal with Carlisle. I told him about how the loss of the baby had affected me, and that it still hurt.

Everything that hadn't been shared before was shared that weekend. Even things we had said before was reiterated. And when Edward left for Seattle on Sunday evening, I was so emotionally drained that I crawled into bed at eight p.m. and slept for sixteen hours. As luck would have it, I had no visitors that Monday.

Since I was located in Forks and Edward in Seattle, the beginning of our relationship, two-point-oh, was conducted via telephone. There were endless texts and late-night phone calls, facebook chats and gchat videos. It forced us to take things slower, which was probably good for us.

It also meant that after two months of no touching, only talking, when Edward finally came back to Forks, we spent the entire weekend in bed. It was glorious. And exhausting.

I decided to go back to school for winter quarter and finish my degree. Business was slow, anyway, and Sue agreed to look after the place and step in if there were any bookings during that period. Alice and Kate had my room ready in no time, as the foreign exchange student living with them was leaving in December. Everything lined up perfectly.

There was another New Year's Eve party at our apartment. This time I didn't get drunk, and this time I remembered having Edward in my bed the next day. And he spent every night after that in my bed, until we moved out, in July 2011.

I finally graduated in March 2011. Edward graduated and got into the UW med school in June that year. We moved into our own little place in Eastlake in July, and I started my internship at Thomas & Mercer, one of Amazon's publishing houses, a few weeks later. Everything was lining up for us.

In November that year, we got into a huge fight. It was terrible. It all started with me mentioning going to Jacksonville for Thanksgiving. As it turned out, Edward had already told his mother that we'd go to Chicago for Thanksgiving. In retrospect, it was a petty fight, but as it escaladed, things from the past got dragged out, specifically my fling and his leaving me. This went on for days.

When we realized what we had been bringing up in our fight, just to use as tools to hurt each other, we sat down once again and talked. Again, we decided to be as open and honest as we could, and this time it didn't hurt as much.

We eventually made up and agreed to spend Thanksgiving in Jacksonville and Christmas in Chicago. It was not the last time we fought, but now every time either one of us even as much as thinks about dragging the ugly past up again, we take step back and try to talk rationally. "Try" being the operative word. It's like it has become our cue, telling us our fight is getting stupid.

We have come a long way since that day in September 2010.

My mother and Jamie have been staying with Edward and me for the last week, and I've taken it upon myself to drop them off at the airport. Their visit was rather sudden, but Renee has never been one to think first and act second. Barely ten minutes after I told her about my engagement, she had her tickets booked and printed out.

The proposal was simple, really, but I feel that simplicity is key sometimes. Edward had come home one night, exhausted by a day of lectures followed by twelve hours of interning at Seattle Grace. I was sitting by myself on the sofa in the living room of our little apartment, with the Chinese delivery ready on the coffee table. He collapsed on the sofa next to me and snuggled against my side, burying his face in the nook of my neck. Breathing in deeply, he sighed and murmured, "I've been waiting for this all day."

"To smell me?" I said, feeling a little ridiculous.

"Yes, and to feel your warmth, and to tell you I love you."

I brushed his wild locks from his face. "I love you, too, sweetie."

We sat like that for a few moments, and I wondered if he was falling asleep on my shoulder. I gently nudged him and asked, "The food is getting cold; aren't you hungry?"

He sat up, reached into his pocket, and like he hadn't even heard me, he said, "I meant to do this in a much more romantic way, but I can't wait any longer. Bella, I love you, and it would complete my whole world if you would agree to marry me." And then he presented me with a little black box. Inside was a cute little platinum ring with a single diamond blinking at me.

There was no way I would say no.

It's been three weeks now, and I still feel weird when I look at the ring on my left hand. It almost seems too fancy beneath my chipped nail polish on my un-manicured hand. Sometimes, when I'm thinking about something completely different, I feel it buzzing on my skin, and my eyes are drawn to it.

And every time I look at it, I smile.

Once again distracted by this thing on my finger, I accidentally bump into someone on my way to the parking garage at the airport.

"Oh, excuse me…" I start, but when I look up, I see a face I haven't seen in years. "Carlisle!"

"Bella!" He smiles. Without even thinking, we hug like old friends.

"How have you been?" I ask. He looks older; his blond hair is thinning at the temples and the crow's feet by his eyes are more prominent than they used to be.

"Great, good… How are you?"

"Oh, I'm doing well, thanks."

We look at each other for a few moments as the reality sinks in. We haven't seen each other since I was at the hospital five years ago.

"I haven't seen you around in a while, and Edward…" I start, but I can't bring myself to finish the thought. I don't know how Carlisle dealt with the whole incident, nor how comfortable he is with me talking about Edward.

"Oh, I relocated to San Francisco not long after… your hospitalization. My cousin was going through marital problems, and I thought she could use some support."

I search my mind for a memory where he mentioned a cousin. "Wait, was that the lesbian?"

Carlisle smiles. "Yes, it was Jane."

The puzzle pieces slowly come together and I remember him mentioning how he was in love with his cousin's wife. "Oh," I say as the realization hits me. "Did… Did they work things out?"

"Not exactly… As it turned out, Esme, her wife, was not ready to devote herself to the homosexual lifestyle."

"So she was not entirely gay."

Carlisle laughs. "No, not entirely."

So many questions arise, but I'm not sure how appropriate they would be. I think I've already reached my limits on the less than appropriate questions so far.

"And what about you? Have you been living in San Francisco all this time?" I ask, reluctantly steering the conversation somewhere else. What I really want to know if he got somewhere with that woman his cousin married.

"I have. I got a nice position at a hospital downtown, and… I met a woman."

My face breaks out in a smile at his last words. "You did? That's great! What's her name, and what does she do?"

Carlisle looks a bit embarrassed as he scratches the back of his neck. "She's a nurse, and… Oh, she's coming right there," he says and points behind me.

I look back and see a woman approaching us, carrying a large black purse. Her high heels tap on the floor as she approaches us. She looks fabulously natural; her make-up is not overdone, and her honey brown hair flows slightly curly down her chest. Her nails are colored nude, and the simple emerald pendant matches her blue eyes.

"Bella, this is Esme," Carlisle says as the woman extends her hand.

I clasp her hand and look at Carlisle. "Esme?"

He nods, and I realize this is  _the_  Esme, the one he was in love with, and the one who wasn't gay enough.

"It's lovely to meet you, Esme," I say, smiling.

"You too, Bella." Her voice is soft and genuine. By Carlisle's side, she looks like a queen to his king.

I don't know what to say, so I start nervously pulling on my scarf, which is a bad habit. As I look between the two of them, I notice Carlisle looking at my hand. I look down and realize that he's looking at the ring.

"You're engaged?" he asks quietly, but before I can answer, Esme grabs my hand and inspects the ring.

"Oh, it's beautiful! So simple, yet so elegant."

"Yes," I answer. "Since three weeks ago."

"And is it… Edward?" Carlisle asks.

I can't keep the smile off my face. "Yes, it's Edward."

"Oh, look at her, Carlisle. Isn't she just glowing?" Esme chimes in.

Carlisle nods and smiles. "I'm glad you two worked things out."

"I'm glad, too. And it's so great seeing you and your… Esme," I say, not quite knowing their status. "I hope the two of you are very happy together."

Esme hooks her arm to Carlisle's, grinning. "We are."

We stand silently for a moment, before my phone chimes at an incoming text. I glance down and see it's from Edward, asking when I'll be home. I quickly text back that I'm just leaving the airport, then look up at the couple.

"Listen, I have to go. Edward is waiting for me. I'm so glad we could catch up, Carlisle. And Esme, it was a pleasure meeting you." I give them both a quick hug goodbye, then add, "Please look after him, Esme? He deserves to be cherished."

Esme pats my arm in a comforting manner. "Don't worry, he's in good hands."

Just as I head out of the terminal, I hear Esme asking, "So is that the girl—" but her words are cut off by the sliding doors closing behind me.

When I get home, I consider only for a moment not telling Edward about that meeting, but experience has taught me that nothing good comes from hiding things. So when he greets me with a kiss at the door, I start, "Guess who I just met at the airport."

"Did you see Dave Grohl again?"

I laugh as we walk into the kitchen. "No." I calm myself before I continue, "I just saw Carlisle Cullen." I watch Edward to gauge his reaction.

His face becomes a tad more serious, but he tries to hide it. "Yeah? Did you talk to him?"

"Yes."

Edward is silent, so I keep talking. "He's been living in San Francisco."

Something is going on in Edward's head, but I can't tell what it is. Then suddenly, he relaxes and puts his hands around me, hugging me. "Yeah? What has he been up to?"

I tell him everything Carlisle and I talked about, and that he was happy for us about our engagement.

"We didn't talk for long," I say. "It was good to see him, though. I'm glad he's doing well."

Edward breathes me in for a few moments, then quietly asks, "And no old feelings resurfaced for you?"

I back away from him and see his puppy-dog face looking at me. I raise my hand and stroke his stubbled cheek. "Are you kidding? I never had any real feelings for him, aside from those of a hormonal young girl. And I will never be anyone else's but yours."

Edward leans into my touch and steps closer to me. "I love you," he whispers.

"And I love you, Edward. Only you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many more people to thank, so I'm taking this time to try to mention them all.
> 
> All my love to all the amazing ladies at Rehab, who were there when I first started out. To ILWA, Emmie, Lucky, DK, AT, Ally, and all those others who may or may not have read my story. Lucky, your input has always been valued, and you have helped me through many insecurities.
> 
> BelleDean, who pretty much helped me get started.
> 
> Project Team Beta for pairing me up with excellent betas.
> 
> Emergency Beta Service, my pet project, which allows me to practice my skill on almost daily basis. And all the lovely ladies at EBS, who make up an awesome team of betas (I should know). I feel honored to have met a part of the team in person, and I hope to have another opportunity like that in the future.
> 
> And to every single one of you who have ever reviewed. Even you, Guest. I don't agree with you, but at least you took the time to write a few lines about how you feel.
> 
> *Exit music starts playing* Yeah, I guess I should stop.
> 
> And before I leave, please check out my other stories :)


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